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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT: 



MEMOIRS OF 
EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

The Friend of Lord N e I so n 
AND THE COURT OF NAPLES 



With a Special Introduction 
and Illustrations 




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NEW YORK 

P F COLLIER 6c SON 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright 1910 
By P. F. Collier & Son 



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CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGI 

Introduction 5 

I. The Curtain Rises: 1765-1782 . . . .13 

II. The "Fair Tea-maker of Edgware Row": 1782-1784 37 

III. "What God, and Greville, pleases": To March 1786 60 



IV. Apprenticeship and Marriage: 1787-1791 
V. Till the First Meeting: 1791-1793 . 
VI. "Stateswoman" : 1794-1797 
VII. Triumph : 1798 .... 

VIII. Flight: December 1798 — January 1799 
IX. Triumph Once More: To August 1799 
X. Homeward Bound: To December 1800 
XL From Piccadilly to "Paradise" Merton : 1801 
XII. Exit "Nestor": January 1802 — May 1803 . 



81 
124 

157 
191 
231 

252 

305 
335 
380 



XIII. Penelope and Ulysses: June 1803 — January 1806 . 402 

XIV. The Importunate Widow in Liquidation : February 

1806— July 1814 433 

XV. From Debt to Death : July 1814 — January 1815 . . 465 



Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 1 



INTRODUCTION 

"Among the lovely faces that haunt history none, 
surely, is lovelier than that of Emily Lyon, who 
abides undying as Emma, Lady Hamilton. Yet it 
was never the mere radiance of rare beauty that en- 
titled her to such an empire over the hearts and wills 
of several remarkable men and of one unique genius, 
or which empowered a girl humbly bred and basely 
situated to assist in moulding events that changed the 
current of affairs. She owned grace . and charm as 
well as triumphant beauty; while to these she added 
a masculine mind, a native force and sparkle ; a singu- 
lar faculty, moreover, of rendering and revealing the 
thoughts and feelings of others, that lent an especial 
glamour to both beauty and charm." 

Walter Sichel thus strikes the keynote to the re- 
markable life-story here presented — a story which 
transcends the bounds of romance and fascinates and 
baffles the reader by turns. Indeed, no two critics of 
this famous beauty and confidante of Lord Nelson 
have ever agreed as to her place in history. To one 
she is an adventuress, luring Nelson on by the sheer 
power of her physical charm; to another, she is his 
guiding star, his inspiration; while others see in her 
merely an astute politician, eager for power. To 
quote Mr. Sichel again: 

"It will be found that Lady Hamilton, by turns ful- 
somely flattered and ungenerously condemned, was a 
picturesque power and a real influence. She owned 

5 



6 INTRODUCTION 

a fine side to her puzzling character. She was never 
mercenary, often self-abandoning, and at times actu- 
ally noble. Her courage, warm-hqartedness and gift 
of staunch friendship, her strength in conquering, her 
speed in assimilating circumstances, the firmness mixed 
with her frailty, were conspicuous; and it was the 
blend of these that, together with her genuine grit, 
appealed so irresistibly to Nelson. She must be 
largely judged by her capabilities. Her faults were 
greatly those of her antecedents and environment. 
She rose suddenly to situations and fulfilled them, 
while these again led her both to climax and catas- 
trophe. She worked long and hard, and with suc- 
cess; she took a strong line and pursued it. She be- 
came a serious politician in correspondence with most 
of the leaders in the European death-grapple with 
Jacobinism. So far, as has been represented, from 
having proved the mere tool of an ambitious queen, 
it will appear that more than once she swayed that 
beset and ill-starred woman into decision. So far 
from having craftily angled for Nelson's love, it will 
be shown that the magnet of her enthusiasm first at- 
tracted his. She was indeed singularly capable of 
feeling enthusiasm, and of communicating and en- 
kindling it. It is as an enthusiast that she must 
rank." 

"The story of her wonderfully checkered career 
from her cradle to her grave," writes W. H. Long in 
an earlier edition of her Memoirs, "and her connection 
with the greatest naval commander the world has ever 
seen, is as attractive and thrilling as a romance, and 
will serve for all time 'to point a moral or adorn a 
tale.' " We find in these pages the life history of a 
girl of obscure but honest parentage beginning her 
career as a household servant, then practically cast 
adrift in the streets seeking a precarious living in 



INTRODUCTION 7 

doubtful ways; thence rising- from the very edge of 
circumstance by successive stages to become the in- 
spiration of artists and Bohemians, the protegee of 
ministers, the wife of an ambassador, the trusted con- 
fidante of a queen, and the all-absorbing passion of a 
nation's hero. Rapid as this ascent to power was, the 
descent was no less swift, and the poverty which ac- 
companied her early years again greets her at the end 
of the journey. The bare outline of such a career 
exhibits its remarkable contrasts of light and shadow. 
We can only explain it in part by a study of the 
woman herself — the same woman who, as an un- 
tutored girl of nineteen, sighed : "If I only had a good 
education, what a woman I might have been!" 

Lady Hamilton rose to power not merely through 
beauty of face — many other women have been thus 
endowed — but through a combination of rare qualities 
which astounded such critics as Goethe, Sir Horace 
Walpole, the artists Romney and Madame Le Brun, 
and men and women in every walk of life. These 
qualities were a naturally fine mind, a magnetic per- 
sonality, an overflowing sympathy and generosity, 
and a boundless enthusiasm. One may also character- 
ize her as naturally theatrical. She did not pose, she 
was the living personification of the emotions she 
typified; and this natural adaptiveness became in- 
tensified by the scenes into which the untutored girl 
was so suddenly cast. 

And what a theatre it was ! England, just recover- 
ing from the American War of Independence, was 
facing a conflict with France. The latter country had 
emerged from the throes of Revolution only to plunge 
into a Titanic struggle with every other European 
nation. Napoleon marched through Italy, overran 
Egypt and swept the Mediterranean with his ships, 
preparatory to wider conquests. The Mediterranean 



8 INTRODUCTION 

thus became a seething caldron, and in its very centre 
the kingdom of the Two Sicilies struggled for exist- 
ence. It was at Naples, the capital of this kingdom, 
that Emma, Lady Hamilton, as wife of the English 
Ambassador spent the momentous years of her life, 
and here her peculiar genius found full scope. She 
stirred her sluggish ambassador husband to action. 
She became the real power behind the Sicilian throne, 
through the friendship of Maria Carolina the Queen 
(sister of the ill-fated Marie Antoinette of France). 
And when the fleet of Nelson drew near in pursuit of 
the French, she it was who procured water and provi- 
sion for it, enabling Nelson to fight and win his fa- 
mous Battle of the Nile. Upon the return of the victor 
began his remarkable intimacy with both the Hamil- 
tons, which was to endure through the lifetime of 
each and all. And of the three, the chivalrous atti- 
tude of the elderly Sir William is alone meritorious. 
His regard for his wife and his friend never wavered ; 
while they, carried mutually onward by a wave of ir- 
resistible love, forgot the one his wife, the other her 
husband in the liaison so widely known to history. 

That Lady Hamilton's influence upon Nelson was 
permanent and paramount is never disputed. He ideal- 
ized her and strove to live up to the fond ideal which 
he cherished. His letters constantly attest his devotion, 
and his dying message confided her and her child to 
the care of his country — a charge which ungrateful 
England wholly neglected. Nelson, indeed, always 
hoped to have been able to legalise this union of hearts. 
Emma was his "wife before God," his "pride and de- 
light." While to her, Nelson was "the dearest husband 
of her heart," her "hero of heroes," her "idol." They 
lived for each other, and died in the hope that they 
should meet again. "Nelson's unselfishness trans- 
figured her to herself j she became capable of great 



INTRODUCTION 9 

moments. And she was born for friendship. 'I would 
not be a lukewarm friend for the world/ she wrote 
to him at the outset ; 'I cannot make friendships with 
all, but the few friends I have I would die for them/ 
She was always warm-hearted to a fault, as will 
amply appear as her character grows up in these pages. 
So far from numbing Nelson, she nerved him; nor 
did she debase any within the range of her influence." 
The earliest "Memoirs of Lady Hamilton" ap- 
peared shortly after her death, in 181 5, from the pen 
of an anonymous author, and were published by H. 
Colburn, London. They were widely read, a second 
enlarged edition appearing a few months later. 
Frequent printings were made, and finally W. H. 
Long brought out a revised edition in 1891. But 
other and more authentic memoir material meanwhile 
became available — all of which has been utilised by 
the present editor. The first of these sources is a 
volume of "Letters of Lord Nelson to Lady Hamil- 
ton," published by Thomas Lovewell & Co., London, 
1 8 14. The reader of the present book will note how 
these cherished letters were stolen from Lady Hamil- 
ton, while she was ill and in trouble, and how she 
stoutly denied any responsibility for their publication. 
Nevertheless, they are undoubtedly genuine, many of 
the originals having been preserved, and they furnish 
an important basis for these Memoirs. They include 
letters by Lady Hamilton, her husband, Greville, 
Bristol, but chiefly a long series of private letters from 
Nelson himself. The editor has also drawn upon 
various recent manuscript collections in the British 
Museum, such as the correspondence of Lady Hamil- 
ton with Nelson in the autumn of the year 1798, after 
the Nile Victory, and letters between Lady Hamilton 
and Mrs. William Nelson, during 1801, relative to the 
Prince of Wales episode which created such a scandal 



io INTRODUCTION 

in officialdom. The latter collection was not obtained 
by the Museum until 1896, and has therefore not been 
available to preceding biographers. Besides the above 
there are other important sources, such as the Nelson 
family papers, the Acton-Hamilton correspondence, 
the manuscript letters of Maria Carolina, Queen of 
Naples, in the British Museum, and numerous state 
documents and private papers. Mr. Sichel has left 
no bit of evidence unturned, basing his story closely 
upon contemporary evidence, with the result that he 
has here given the first complete and accurate pen 
portrait of Lady Hamilton which has yet appeared. 

"It is a career of widespread interest and unusual 
fascination," he finds, "a human document of many 
problems that well repay the decipherer and the dis- 
coverer. My aim throughout has been to quicken 
research into life, and to furnish a new study of her 
striking temperament and the temperaments which be- 
came so curiously interwoven both with each other 
and with history. I venture also to hope," he adds, 
"that Nelson's own character and achievements stand 
more fully revealed by the fresh lights and side-lights 
which serve to bring his extraordinary individuality 
into relief, to explain his policy, and to clear up some 
vexed passages both in his private and his public ac- 
tions." 

Whatever sentence the reader may pronounce on 
the evidence to be submitted, he cannot fail to mark 
the psychological problems of her being. In any case, 
with all her blots and failings, Lady Hamilton presents 
one of the most fascinating studies in the eternal duel 
of sex. To her may well be applied the line which 
her husband quoted in his book of 1772: — "The 
heroine of a thousand things." 



^vLe*^r-«~ \<^oOi MWUaAjm* 
Vxo^ V3Kft V<A^c^h 'W-o-v*. <^ \vQ_OvCb 

Y<~* *W^ \L* \at<lvj^ ^^ ^ WvMo 

Letter from Lord Nelson to Lady Hamilton 
[See next page, also pp. 197-199] 



NOTE ON NELSON'S LETTER 
(Reproduced on foregoing page) 

The circumstances calling for this remarkable letter 
are given in full in Chapter VII. "Nelson was in chase 
of Buonaparte's fleet," it begins. The English admiral's 
instructions were to water and provide his fleet in any 
Mediterranean port, except in Sardinia, if necessary 
by arms. The success of his expedition absolutely 
depended upon it. The various ports, however, were 
so dominated by Napoleon, then at the height of his 
power, that they dared not welcome the English, even 
if willing. 

At this critical juncture, the woman's hand suc- 
ceeded where the mailed fist might have failed. Lady 
Hamilton's husband was Ambassador to Naples, and 
she herself exerted a vital influence in affairs of that 
little kingdom, not so much through her husband's 
position, as her own close friendship with Queen Caro- 
lina of Naples. She obtained secret permission from the 
Queen to obtain supplies for the fleet, in a personal 
note so jealously guarded that when it is forwarded 
to Nelson, Lady Hamilton entreats him to "kiss it, and 
send it back by Bowen, as I am bound not to give any 
of her letters." 

The overjoyed Admiral hastened to kiss the pre- 
cious missive; his ships were quickly supplied; and not 
long thereafter the news that the French fleet had 
been destroyed in the Battle of the Nile thrilled the 
world. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

CHAPTER I 

THE CURTAIN RISES — 1 765- 1 782 

ON the morning of January 10, 1782, the punctil- 
ious and elegant Honourable Charles Francis 
Greville, gloomy still over the loss of his War- 
wick election, but consoled by a snug, if unsafe, post 
in the Board of Admiralty, much exercised, too, in his 
careful way, about minerals, animals, science, the fine 
arts, and the flickering out of the American war, was 
even more exercised by a missive from a poor young 
girl who had already crossed his path. Fronting him 
in the dainty chamber of his mansion in the new 
and fashionable Portman Square, hung the loaned 
" Venus " attributed to Correggio, and slightly re- 
touched with applied water-colour. This over-prized 
picture had been for years the cherished idol of his 
uncle and alter ego, Sir William Hamilton, K.B., Fel- 
low of the Antiquarian and the Royal Societies, mem- 
ber of the Dilettanti, the Tuesday, and other clubs, 
foster-brother of the now George III., and sometime 
both his and his brother's equerry; the busy man of 
pleasure, the renowned naturalist and virtuoso of Port- ■ 
land vase celebrity, and already for about eighteen 
years His Britannic Majesty's amiably-grumbling Am- 
bassador at the Court of the King of the two Sicilies. 
Greville's natural sangfroid was not easily ruffled, but 
this letter almost excited him. It was franked by 

14 



14 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

himself on a wrapper in his own neat handwriting, 
bore the Chester postmark, and contrasted strongly 
with the tasteful tone of the room and its superfine 
owner. 

It ran as follows : " Yesterday did I receve your 
kind letter. It put me in some spirits for, believe me, I 
am allmost distracktid. I have never hard from Sir 
H., 1 and he is not at Lechster now, I am sure. I have 
wrote 7 letters, and no anser. What shall I dow? 
Good God what shall I dow. ... I can't come to toun 
for want of mony. I have not a farthing to bless my 
self with, and I think my friends looks cooly on me. 
I think so. O. G. what shall I dow? What shall I 
dow ? O how your letter affected me when you wished 
me happiness. O. G. that I was in your posesion or 
in Sir H. what a happy girl would I have been ! Girl 
indeed ! What else am I but a girl in distres — in reall 
distres? For God's sake, G. write the minet you get 
this, and only tell me what I am to dow. Direct same 
whay. I am allmos mad. O for God's sake tell me 
what is to become on me. O dear Grevell, write to 
me. Write to me. G. adue, and believe [me] yours 
for ever Emly Hart. 

" Don't tel my mother what distres I am in, and 
dow afford me some comfort. 

" My age was got out of the Reggister, and I now 
send it to my dear Charles. Once more adue, O you 
dear friend." 

Who was this girl in " reall distres," what her past ? 
who were the friends who looked " cooly " on her, and 
for what reasons? These questions will shortly be 
answered so far as replies admit of real proof. But 
first a brief space must be devoted to Greville himself, 

1 Sir Harry Fetherstonehaugh, of Up Park, Sussex, who lived 
to correspond in middle age with her in terms of deferential 
friendship. His name is thus spelt in his letters. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 15 

since his individuality is as necessary to the coming 
plot as her own. 

The Honourable Charles Francis Greville was now 
thirty-two. 

The second son of the Right Honourable Francis, 
Earl of Brooke (afterwards Earl of Warwick), and 
of Elizabeth Hamilton, one of Sir William's sisters, he 
was born at Fulham on May 12, 1749, and baptised 
on June 8 following. He was born prematurely old, 
parsimoniously extravagant, and cautiously careless. 
His cradle should have been garlanded with official 
minutes, and draped with collectors' catalogues. From 
his earliest days he was prim, methodical, and 
pedantic beyond his years. The unlikelihood of sur- 
viving his eldest brother had been ever before his eyes, 
and he was set on the emoluments of a political career, 
promising much to one so highly connected. While 
still in his teens he began amassing v'rtu with discern- 
ment, and specimens of mineralogy on a " philo- 
sophical " system. Some years before his majority he 
had struck up a brotherly affection with his free- 
hearted uncle, nearly twenty years his senior, who 
relied on a precocious judgment, invaluable to one 
compelled by long absences to entrust to others the 
management of his wife's Pembrokeshire property, 
indispensable also to both in the keen pursuit of their 
common tastes, the one in Italy, the home of art, the 
other in England, the nursery of science. From a 
very early date the student of beauty and curios, the 
investigator of shells, marine monsters, and volcanoes, 
" Pliny the Elder," as he came to be called, was al- 
ways exchanging rarities with " Pliny the Younger," 
or commissioning him to buy, sell, or raffle Dutch and 
Italian pictures, Etruscan urns, Greek torsos, and Ro- 
man vases. 

Hamilton was a true man of science, and a really 



16 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

great archaeologist. When he first came to Naples in 
1764 he spent months in his Villa Angelica, on the 
slopes of Mount Vesuvius, taking observations and ex- 
cavating antiquities. He was far less a trafficker in 
objects of art and learning than his nephew. He pre- 
sented both books and specimens of value to the British 
Museum. His aim, in his own words, was that of 
" employing his leisure in use to mankind." x Not 
quite so, however, was that of Pliny the Younger, who 
in his turn bought crystals and works of art with equal 
zest of connoisseurship. Greville was barely twenty- 
one when he went the Italian tour, stayed with his 
uncle at Naples, then in the full fever of unearthing 
buried chefs-d'oeuvre at Herculaneum and Pompeii, 
which were so soon to experience many fresh escapes 
from re-destruction by earthquakes and eruptions. 
From Rome, in this year, the nephew indited two of 
the most self-assured letters of grave gossip and coun- 
sel that any youngster has ever addressed to one nearly 
twice his age. They are so like himself that a small 
part of one must be given : " I begin with a subject 
that I have resolved every time I have wrote to men- 
tion, and now particularly I am under an obligation 
to remember, as for the first time my handkerchief 

1 Observations on Mount Vesuvius, etc. (1772). The villa was 
probably called after the artist. Hamilton constantly ran great 
danger in observing and recording violent eruptions. He was 
indefatigable in superintending excavations, and he mentions 
being present at Pompeii when a horse with jewelled trappings 
and its rider were unearthed. He was a munificent patron alike 
of discoverers, travelers, scientists, and artists, including Flax- 
man and Wedgwood. He was a trustee of the British Museum, 
and a vice-president of the Society of Antiquaries. A big book 
on his Greek and Roman antiquities was written by D'Harcau- 
ville (Naples, 1765-1775; Paris, 1787). Besides the book already 
mentioned, supplemented in 1779, Hamilton wrote Campi 
Phlegrcei (Naples, 1776-77), and the famous work on Greek 
and Etruscan urns, etc., illustrated by Bartolozzi. A Life 
worthy of him ought to be written. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 17 

has been knotted on the occasion. It is to desire you 
to enquire for two books I left in my room at your 
house; 2 pocket volumes of Milton's works. I bor- 
rowed them, and left them with an intention they 
should be sent to Mrs. Harfrere to whom they be- 
long. . . . The ink bottle has this moment oversett, 
but you see I am not disconcerted, so pray don't make 
observations, and the letter is as good as it was. Pray 
let me beg you to avoid every mention of prices, I 
have done so once before. Pray let me send and be 
favoured with the acceptance of some baubles. . . . 
I am in the best of humours. I received this morning 
a line from Lord Exeter, who informed me of the 
Douglas cause being decided in his favour. ... I 
am running about the antiquities from 9 to 11 with 
Byres, from n-12 with Miss A., so you see I gain 
Horace's happiness, omne tulit punctum qui miscuit 
utile dulci. . . . Pray let me lay on you a dis- 
agreeable task, choose me a handsome pattern for an 
applicee, have it wrought for me instantaneously, and 
sent to Rome. I wish an Etrusc vase could be intro- 
duced. It must be handsome and rich; as to its ele- 
gance, anything, particularly Etrusc, conducted by 
your taste cannot fail to be elegant. If a contrivance 
could be hit on for making it less regular and straight, 
... I should be pleased. Yours is charming, but 
rather too much like a lace. . . . The spangles must 
be caution'd against and well fastened. There have 
been some fine conversations since the Emperor has 
been here. The Grand Duke asked after you of me. 
. . . The E. has lessened the talk about the D. 
However I like the D. best: more of engaging and 
gentlemanlike deportment, and more of the world. 
... By the Bye if you can pick up any vases, of 
which you have duplicates, lay them aside for me, and 
don't buy them if not well conserv'd and good; nor 



18 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

many of a shape, a few elegant and good. Adieu my 
dear Hamilton." 

Certainly Greville proved the Horatian mixer of 
pleasure with profit; and since he, like his far franker 
uncle, was ever complaining of a narrow purse tan- 
talised by the temptations of virtu, that other trite 
Horatian maxim, Virtute me involvo, would also ad- 
mirably fit them. Wrapped in their mantles of Virtu, 
they both bewailed means far too slender for their 
tastes. The richer Sir William, indeed, expending in 
antiquities what he retrenched elsewhere, seems in his 
correspondence all debt and Correggio; while Greville 
removed to his mansion under pretext of its size be- 
ing a bargain. Each sought to serve the other, and 
Greville in his youth persistently charged his uncle to be 
his depute. As time proceeded, Sir William with an 
ailing wife and a buried daughter, his nephew ever on 
his watch-tower for an heiress, confided to each other 
their little gallantries, and peccadilloes also. As for 
Greville, just as in the case of the " applicee," " con- 
trivances " were soon " hit on " for making him " less 
regular and straight." Already, in 1781, this solemn 
frequenter of new Almack's had acquired the Reyn- 
olds picture of " Emily in the character of Thais," 
which had been left on Sir Joshua's hands. His char- 
acter was that of a free-living formalist, the reverse of 
austere, but with all austerity's drawbacks. 

Yet there were some excellent points in this queer 
compound of the Pharisee and the Publican, something 
between a Charles and a Joseph Surface. If none was 
more prone to sin with self-righteousness, and to ex- 
cuse to himself half-shabbiness as unselfish generosity, 
if none could write more glibly of a " good heart," he 
was not consciously a hypocrite ; though par excellence 
the man of taste rather than the man of feeling. 

He displayed scrupulous honour in all money trans- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 19 

actions, much dignity and reticence, with grace of 
demeanour (if not always of behaviour) ; independence 
too of mind, and a public-spirited industry that often 
kept him sitting on important committees six hours 
at a stretch. He was a steadfast friend, and the early 
death of his Pylades, the brilliant Charles Cathcart, 
was a real blow to him and an irretrievable loss. He 
was an ideal trustee. He could say with truth, "I 
am a good jobber for a friend, but an awkward one 
for myself." He was worthy of his uncle's confidence, 
and to the last superintended his affairs and those 
of others with integrity and tact. Nor did he neglect 
the welfare of Hamilton's tenants at Milford. He was 
capable of limited disinterestedness as well as of true 
patriotism. His father's death and his brother's ac- 
cession to estates and title in 1773 reduced his allow- 
ance afresh, and all his resource was needed to repair 
the deficiency. 

Socially a disciple of the old-fashioned Chesterfield, 
and affecting to flout the opinion of a world that he 
was far from despising, politically he was a trimming 
Whig, but an unbending supporter of all authority 
and establishment. He throve on coalitions, and la- 
mented with reason the nearing end of that coalition 
ministry which was still in power when this chapter 
opened. 

Such is an epitome of the man who still holds the 
soi-disant " Emily Hart's " letter in his hands. It is 
her origin and past that now demand re-investigation. 
In view of her instinctive independence and her native 
appetite for glory, the notion of which grew with her 
expanding horizon, these trivial beginnings are not 
unimportant, while some of her cousins played a 
prominent part in the later scenes of her life. 

Emily (or " Emy ") Lyon was born on April 26 in 
1765, the year of her baptism, unless, without reason, 



20 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

we are to assume her illegitimacy. The Neston parish 
registers prove the marriage of her parents to have 
taken place on June n, 1764. The rumours and fic- 
tions about her early adventures, seemingly requiring 
a longer space than her extreme girlhood affords, have 
impelled certain biographers to antedate her birth by 
so much as four years. But many references, both in 
Greville's letters and Hamilton's, with other evidence 
outside them, entirely tally with the date that I have 
assigned. She was christened " Emily " (of which 
" Emy " and not " Amy," as has been alleged, is the 
contraction), though from the "Emy" she may in 
childhood have been called " Amy " at times. The 
copy of the baptismal register sent to Greville is in- 
correct, as will be seen in the note below. Her mar- 
riage register, it is true, is signed " Amy Lyons " ac- 
cording to the Marylebone clerk's information, but 
this again seems a natural misreading of her rapid and 
often indistinct handwriting for " Emy Lyon." 

Her father was Henry Lyon, " Smith of Nesse," 
and her mother Mary Kidd of Hawarden, Flintshire. 
In their marriage register both sign by marks, al- 
though her mother soon afterwards became " a 
scholar." Her father died, it is said, in the year of 
her birth; but there is no vestige of her mother's re- 
marriage to one " Doggan " or " Doggin," to which 
has been attributed her after-name of Mrs. Cadogan 
from the present period in London to that when she 
became " La Signora Madre dell'Ambasciatrice," and 
the esteemed friend both of Hamilton and of Nelson. 
" Emy " has always been described as an only child, 
but she seems to have had a brother or half-brother, 
" Charles." Thomas Kidd, an old salt and cousin, 
writing from Greenwich in 1809, to thank for past and 
beg for future favours, observes : " I have to inform 
you that your brother Charles is in Greenwich College 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 21 

and has been here since the 6th inst. ;" but I can find 
no further trace of this " brother," nor is there any 
record of relatives on the father's side. 1 This Thomas 
Kidd may well have been the son of a William Kidd, 
"labourer," who, as "widower" in September, 1769, 
in the Hawarden registers, married one " Mary Pova." 
And William Kidd is possibly Lady Hamilton's cousin 
or uncle, who was at one time a publican, and who used 
to complain that he was " never brought up to work." 
If this be so, something of the paternal strain seems 
to have descended to the son, who, in the letter just 
mentioned, excuses his remissness in calling, as re- 
quested, by the insinuating remark that " I declare my 
small cloaths are scandolous, and my hat has the crown 
part nearly off " ; while he speaks pointedly of the at- 
tentions of a " Mr. Ingram," who in turn refers to his 
" justifiable character " in " His Majesty's service," 
and suggests that, since both the porter of the west gate 
and the " roasting cook " of the college are infirm and 
ill, there is a choice of probable promotions awaiting 
him. In after years it was not only her humble kins- 
folk, whom she never forsook, that were to importune 
Emma for advancements. 

The Kidds were mostly sailors or labourers. Lady 
Hamilton's grandmother, with whom in girlhood she 
often stayed, and whom she always cared for and cher- 
ished, dwelt in one of some thatched cottages, two of 
which still remain. That Mary Lyon, nee Kidd, was a 
superior woman, is shown by her after-acquirements. 
Tradition associates her both with dressmaking and 
with domestic service. If tradition again is trust- 
worthy, she may have been cook in the household of 
Lord Halifax, who is also reported to have educated 
both her and her child. But Lady Hamilton herself, 

1 At the last moment I have been informed that Emma had a 
sister "Anna." 



22 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

writing to Mr. Bowen of Portman Square (and of 
Merton?) in 1802 about Charlotte Nelson's education, 
declares that her own did not begin till she was seven- 
teen — that is to say, under Greville's auspices. I have 
read none of her mother's letters before 1800, and it 
is not improbable that mother and daughter began their 
education together. She was always an energetic 
housekeeper and a most resourceful home-physician. 
Her letters to Emma, to George Rose, and others, seem 
neither ill-worded nor ill-spelt. At Naples and Pa- 
lermo we shal,l find her visited by the Queen. The 
King of Naples was in the December of 1798 to call 
her an " angel " for her services during the hurricane 
attending the royal escape to Palermo, though he also, 
if we may trust the Marchioness of Solari, had be- 
fore dubbed her " Rufiiana." The Duke of Sussex 
highly esteemed her. Nor can the accomplished Miss 
Cornelia Knight have found her intolerable, for on 
the return of Nelson, the Hamiltons, and herself to 
London after the ill-starred continental tour of 1800, 
she drove straight off and stayed with Mrs. " Cado- 
gan " at the hotel in St. James's. There is no evidence 
as to how this homely and trustworthy woman came 
by her grand name. Doggin, her second husband, 
however, may not be a myth ; although the Marchioness 
of Solari mentions that " Codogan " was the name by 
which " Emma's reputed mother " caused her to be 
known at Naples before her marriage ; and at any rate 
it is a singular coincidence that Earl Nelson's com- 
panion when he went to Calais to fetch Horatia away, 
after Lady Hamilton's death in 181 5, was to be a 
Mr. Henry Cadogan, a relation of the late and well- 
known Mr. Rothery. 

Only two sisters of Emma's mother are generally 
mentioned. Both of these seem also to have risen 
above their station. The one married a Mr. John 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 23 

Moore, afterwards, it would seem, successful in busi- 
ness at Liverpool, but at one time addressed by Emma 
at the house of a Mr. Potter in Harley Street. The 
other was a Mrs. Connor, who had six children, all of 
them long supported by Lady Hamilton : one of them, 
Sarah, to be the governess both at Merton and Cran- 
wich, was well educated ; another, Cecilia, became an 
accomplished singer, and also a (though a less capable) 
preceptress. Ann, the eldest, and Eliza both rose 
above their sphere, though they proved most ungrate- 
ful; while Charles, who entered the Navy under Nel- 
son's protection, could write an excellent letter, but un- 
fortunately went mad, for, as Lady Hamilton recorded 
in a very curious statement regarding four of them, 
" there was madness in the family." Ann's showed 
itself in eventually asserting that she was Lady Ham- 
ilton's daughter, for which there is no evidence; in- 
deed, to her must be traced the unfounded rumour 
spread by the chronique scandaleuse of the time that 
Ann, Eliza, and Charles were Greville's three chil- 
dren. Mary, too, was to be popular, and with all her 
sisters intimate with the whole Nelson and Hamil- 
ton family, as well as with Sir William Hamilton's 
relations. 

Lady Hamilton's mother had also a third sister, 
Ann, who married " Richard Reynolds, Whitesmith," 
in 1774. The Sarah (misspelt "Reynalds") who 
finds a mention as grateful to her titled cousin in the 
Morrison correspondence, was probably his daughter. 
She may further have had another brother or cousin, 
William, an entry regarding whom and his wife Mary 
finds place also in the Hawarden parish books. There 
were the " Nicolls," whom, just before her own bank- 
ruptcy, Emma is found continuously maintaining with 
the rest of her connections. And finally there are 
traces of friends — of her Parkgate landlady in 1784, 



24 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Mrs. Downward, and of a Mrs. Ladmore whom she 
seems to have known. 

When we remember the bright and intelligent letters 
that remain of this Connor family, their acquirements, 
and the way in which they were treated and received, 
the fairy-tale of Lady Hamilton's conquest over cir- 
cumstance seems to have extended also to her rela- 
tions. 

Nothing can be proved of Emma's childhood but 
that it was passed at Hawarden in extreme poverty, 
that she was a madcap, and that she blossomed early 
and fairly into stature and ripeness beyond her age. 
At sixteen (or perhaps thirteen) she was already a 
grown woman, which explains the puzzled Greville's 
inquiry for the register of her baptism. The most 
ridiculous romances were spread during her lifetime 
and after it. Hairbreadth escapes and Family Herald 
love-stories, regardless of facts or dates, adorn the 
pages of a novel published in the fifties, and pro- 
fessing to be circumstantial ; 1 while Alexandre Dumas 
has embroidered his Souvenirs d'Une Favorite with 
all the wild scandals of a teeming imagination. The 
earliest certainty is that at some thirteen years of age 
she entered the service of Mr. Thomas of Hawarden, 
the father of a London physician, and brother-in-law 
of the famous art patron, Alderman Boydell of Lon- 
don. Miss Thomas was the first to sketch Emma 
while she was their nurse-maid. The drawing survives 
at Hawarden, and the Thomases always remained her 
friends. Whether it is possible that the roving Rom- 
ney may have seen her there must be left to fancy. It 
is at least a curious fact that she came so early into 
indirect touch with art. The loose rumour ascribing 
her departure from Hawarden to the severity of her 
first master or mistress is entirely without foundation. 
1 Nelson's Legacy. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 25 

A far more probable conjecture is that she left 
Hawarden for London because her mother left also. 
It seems probable from the letter to Greville, already 
quoted, as well as from Greville's answer, which will 
soon follow, that Mrs. " Cadogan " was already in 
some London situation known to and approved of by 
Greville. 

About the end, then, of 1779 or the beginning of 
1780, when Emma was some fifteen years of age, she 
repaired with her mother to the capital ; and there 
seems little doubt that she found employment with Dr. 
Budd, a surgeon of repute, at Chatham Place, near St. 
James's Market. A comrade with her in this service 
was the talented and refined woman afterwards famed 
as the actress, Jane Powell, who is not to be confused 
with the older Harriet Powell, eventually Lady Sea- 
forth. When Sir William and Lady Hamilton re- 
turned home in 1800, they attended a performance at 
Drury Lane, where Emma and her old fellow-servant 
were the cynosure of an audience ignorant of their 
former association. When Lady Hamilton was at 
Southend in the late summer of 1803 she again met 
her quondam colleague. Pettigrew possessed and 
quoted a nice letter from her on this occasion. It is 
assuredly not among the least of the many marvels 
attending Emma's progress that an eminent surgeon 
should have harboured two such belles in his area. 

And now Apocrypha is renewed. Gossip has it 
that she served in a shop; that she became parlour- 
maid elsewhere, and afterwards the risky " compan- 
ion " of a vicious " Lady of Quality." The Prince 
Regent, who was years afterwards to solicit and be re- 
pulsed by her, used to declare that he recollected her 
selling fruit with wooden pattens on her feet; but he 
also used to insist, it must be recollected, on his own 
presence at the battle of Waterloo. It was said, too, 



26 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

that she had been a model for the Academy students. 
For such canards there is no certainty, and for many 
rumours there is slight foundation. But there is a 
shade of evidence to show that somewhere about 1781 
she was in the service of the manager of Drury Lane 
Theatre, Sheridan's father-in-law, Thomas Linley the 
elder, and that she suddenly quitted it from grief at 
the death of his young son, a naval lieutenant, whom 
she had nursed. Angelo in his Reminiscences has 
drawn the pathetic picture of his chance meeting with 
her in Rathbone Place, a dejected figure clad in deep 
mourning; he has added an earlier encounter and an 
allusion to her brief sojourn with the " Abbess " of 
Arlington Street, Mrs. Kelly, who may be identical 
with the " Lady of Quality." If so, destitution must 
have caused her downfall. Hitherto this girl of six- 
teen, so beautiful that passers-by turned spellbound to 
look at her, had rejected all overtures of evil. Writ- 
ing to Romney after her marriage, in a letter which 
seems to imply that she had known him even before her 
acquaintance with Greville, Lady Hamilton thus recalls 
her past : " You have seen and discoursed with me in 
my poorer days, you have known me in my poverty and 
prosperity, and I had no occasion to have lived for 
years in poverty and distress if I had not felt some- 
thing of virtue in my mind. Oh, my dear friend, for 
a time I own through distress my virtue was van- 
quished, but my sense of virtue was not overcome." 
Some two years earlier, when she had insisted on ac- 
companying Sir William on a shooting expedition, 
and he had evidently remonstrated about hardship, 
rough lodging did not deter her; she had been accus- 
tomed to it. 

From Angelo's story it would appear that her 
earliest admirer was Fetherstonehaugh, who will soon 
cross the scene, and who in her later years was to 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 27 

emerge friendly and even respectful. But the name of 
her first betrayer has been so constantly given as that 
of " Captain," afterwards Rear-Admiral, " Jack " Wil- 
let-Payne, man of fashion, member of Parliament, .and 
eventually treasurer of Greenwich Hospital, that the 
story cannot be wholly discredited. Tradition has 
added that she first encountered him in a bold attempt 
to rescue a cousin from being impressed into the 
service. This may or may not be. The sole side- 
light, afforded by an unnoticed letter from Nelson of 
1 80 1, which proves that she had confided much of her 
past to her hero, more probably refers to Greville: 
" That other chap did throw away the most precious 
jewel that God ever sent on this earth." 

Her relations with the Captain can scarcely have 
lasted more than about two months. If she was his 
Ariadne, he sailed away in haste, nor does he darken 
her path again. It was perhaps on his sudden de- 
parture that this lonely girl fell in with Dr. Graham, 
the empiric and showman. How she met him is un- 
known : that he was anything to her but an employer 
has never been suggested ; that he ever employed her 
at all rests merely on a story, so accredited by Petti- 
grew, who had known several of her early contem- 
poraries, that one can hardly doubt it. The sole evi- 
dence that she ever " posed " for him is to be found 
in Greville's reply to Emma's appeal already cited : in 
it Greville speaks of the last time you came to " G.," 
which Mr. Jeaffreson guesses to mean " Graham." It 
may, however, at once be noted that his living adver- 
tisement of the goddess of health and beauty, " Hebe 
Vestina," did not figure in his museum of specifics 
until 1782, when he had removed from the Adelphi to 
Pall Mall, and had there opened his " Temple of 
Hymen " in the eastern part of Schomberg House, the 
western side of which had been leased to Gainsborough 



28 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

by the eccentric artist and adventurer, Jack Astley. 
The strong probability is that Emma was first engaged 
by him as a singer in those miniature mock-oratorios 
and cantatas, composed by himself, which played such 
a part in his miscellany, and were supposed to attune 
the souls of the faithful; while her expressive beauty 
may have soon tempted him to exhibit her as the 
draped statue of " Hygieia," or Goddess of Health, 
though certainly not as his later tableau vivant of 
" Hebe Vestina." 

Dr. Graham was no common impostor. He belongs 
to the class of charlatan that unites pseudo-mysticism 
and pseudo-piety to real skill — in short, a High Priest 
of Pompeian Isis. He was no mere conjurer; he ef- 
fected genuine cures besides dealing in quack remedies. 
At this time he was about forty years of age. He 
may have qualified in Edinburgh University; he had 
certainly travelled in France and America, and re- 
ceived testimonials from personages at home and 
abroad. He knew his classics, which he quoted 
profusely in those curious " lectures " combining puff 
with literary, satirical, scriptural, philanthropic, and 
scientific allusion. His brother had married the " his- 
torian," Mrs. Catharine Macaulay, who often figures 
in his florid catalogues of cures. That authoress is 
depicted in mezzo-tints as a sickly-looking lady, pen 
in hand, with a row of her volumes before her, trying 
apparently to draw inspiration from the ceiling. He 
was never tired of assuring the public that she was own 
sister to " Mr. John Sawbridge, M.P. for London." 
He posed as a sort of prayerful alchemist, eradicating 
and healing at once the causes of vice, and its conse- 
quences. His advertisements are a queer union of 
cant earnestness, travestied truth, sensible nonsense, 
humour and the lack of it, effrontery and belief — 
especially in himself. After he had closed his costly 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 29 

and ruinous London exhibitions, he turned " Christian 
Philosopher " at Bath and Newcastle, anticipated the 
modern open-air cure, " paraphrased " the Lord's 
Prayer for the public, the Book of Wisdom for the 
Prince of Wales, and hastened to lay on the pillow of 
the suffering George III. one of his numerous 
"prayers." His specialty in 1780 (and throughout 
his career) was the then derided but now accepted elec- 
tricity and mud-baths. By their means he claimed to 
restore and preserve beauty, to prolong existence, to 
enable a decayed generation to repair its losses by a 
vigorous, comely, and healthful progeny. He had 
opened a pinchbeck palace enriched with symbolical 
paintings, gilt statues, and coloured windows, where 
up to ten o'clock nightly he advertised his wares to 
the sound of sweet music, in his " Temple of ^Escu- 
lapius " at the Royal Terrace, Adelphi. His pamphlets, 
sermons, hymns, exhortations, and satires, were rained 
on the town. In one of these pieces of fulsome reclame 
he describes his museum of elixirs as Emma may have 
viewed it in 1780 or 1781. Over the porch stood 
the inscription " Templum iEsculapio Sacrum." There 
were three gorgeously decorated rooms with galleries 
above, and pictures of heroes and kings, including 
Alfred the Great. Crystal glass pillars enshrined the 
costly electrical apparatus for reviving youth and 
strength. The third chamber was the tinsel " Temple 
of Apollo " with its magnetic " celestial bed," with its 
gilt dragons, overarching " Pavilion," and inscription, 
" Dolorifica res est si quis homo dives nullum habet 
domi suae successorem." " But on the right of the 
Temple," he says, " is strikingly seen a beautiful figure 
of Fecundity," holding her cornucopia and surrounded 
by reclining children ; and above all, an " electric " 
" celestial glory," which, mellowed by the stained win- 
dows, shed a dim and solemn light. Strains of 



30 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

majestic melody filled the air; and here also were sold 
his " Nervous Balsam " and " Electrical y£ther " ; 
while in the mornings this reverse of " seraphic " doc- 
tor punctually attended consultations in the dwelling- 
rooms adjoining. 

Whether such ambrosial tomfoolery yielded Emma 
an intermittent livelihood at all, and whether before 
she loved Willet-Payne or after, remains doubtful; the 
latter is more probable. The blatant novelty-monger 
offered prizes for emblematic pictures, and it is possible 
that Tresham, or even his friend Romney, might have 
been pressed into his service. It may well be, too, 
that here the young blood and baronet, Sir Henry 
Fetherstonehaugh, became her admirer. As we see 
him in his letters some thirty years afterwards, this 
worthy appears as a silly old beau and sportsman, in- 
dulging in compliments pompous as his political reflec- 
tions, and interlarding his correspondence with super- 
fluous French. In his old age he educated and mar- 
ried a most worthy peasant girl, and brought her sis- 
ter (also educated in France) to reside with them at 
Up Park, while from Lady Fetherstonehaugh the 
estate passed into that sister's possession. 

Up Park (like Willet-Payne) was fraught with 
dreams of the fleet, for from its lofty position on the 
steep Sussex Downs it commands a prospect of Ports- 
mouth and the Isle of Wight. Here this erring and 
struggling girl, for a brief space, it may be in 1781, 
became the mistress of the mansion and its roystering 
owner, both Nimrod and Macaroni. Here she 
" witched the world with noble horsemanship," for 
she was always a fearless rider. Here, among rakes, 
she could not rest, as she sighed for the artistic ad- 
miration which her tableau vivant in the Adelphi had 
already aroused among clever Bohemians. Here, per- 
haps in despair, she became so reckless and capricious, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 31 

so hopeless of that peace of mind and happy innocence 
which, ten years later, she joyfully assured Romney 
had been restored to her by marriage, that she was 
ejected and cast adrift at the very moment when she 
found herself soon to become a mother. That she 
was " a girl in reall distres " for the first time (and 
not, as has often been presumed, for the second) will 
be shown when we come to " little Emma," and it is 
here evidenced by her entreaty that Greville would 
spare her mother any knowledge of this fresh and 
crushing blow. 

At Up Park, most probably, Greville had first met 
her in the autumn of 1781, on one of those shooting- 
parties in great houses which he always frequented 
more from fashion than amusement. She had doubt- 
less contrasted him with Sir Harry's stupid and com- 
monplace acquaintances. Greville always took real in- 
terest in people who interested him at all, and at least 
he never acted below, his professions. He was nobly 
bred, considerate, and composed; he was good-look- 
ing, prudent, and ever liberal — in advice. No wonder 
that his condescension seemed ideal to this girl of six- 
teen, who had lost yet coveted self-respect; who had 
already suffered from degrading experience, and yet 
had ever " felt something of virtue " in her " mind." 
He had afterwards (as his letter will show) be- 
friended and scolded her headstrong sallies, though 
his warnings must have passed unheeded. On her 
retirement in disgrace and despair to her loving grand- 
mother at Hawarden, he doubtless gave her the franked 
and addressed papers enabling her to communicate 
with him should need compel her. Just as evidently, 
she had written and been touched with the kind tone of 
his answer. It seems obvious also from Greville's 
coming reply that, as was her way, she would neither 
cajole Sir Harry into renewed favour nor be de- 



'32 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

pendent on anything but sincere kindness. But at last 
she was trembling on a precipice from the brink of 
which she besought him to rescue her. 

To him and to Fetherstonehaugh she was known as 
Emily Hart; nor, in spite of Greville's advice, would 
she, or did she, change that name till her wedding. 
Whence it was assumed is unknown. In the Harvey 
family there lingered a tradition that " Emma Hart " 
was born at Southwell, near Biggleswade, and with her 
mother had served at Ickwell Bury, where she was 
first seen and painted by Romney. But this is wholly 
unfounded, though Romney appears to have painted 
portraits in that house, and it is curious that, about 
forty years ago, one Robert Hart — still living — was a 
butler in their service and professed to be in some 
way related to Lady Hamilton. A guess might 
be hazarded that " Hart " was derived from the 
musician of that name who visited Hamilton's 
house at Naples in 1786 as her old acquaintance. Not 
one of the parish registers offers any solution through 
the names of her kindred. The " Emily " became 
Emma through the artists and the poets, through Rom- 
ney and Hayley. 

It is " Emly Hart's " pleading and pathetic note, 
then, that Charles Greville still holds in his fastidious 
hands on this winter morning. With a glance at his 
statues, specimens, and the repaired Venus, and pos- 
sibly with a pang at the thought of the plight to which 
this " modern piece of virtu " was reduced, he sits 
down most deliberately to compose his answer. How 
deliberately, is shown by the fact that of this letter 
he kept a " pressed copy " done in the ink just in- 
vented by James Watt ; it was a minute of semi-official 
importance. The letter is long, and extracts will suf- 
fice; it will be gathered that he was more prig than 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 33 

profligate, and he had evidently formed the delightful 
design of being her mentor : — 

" My dear Emily, — I do not make apologies for Sir 
H.'s behaviour to you, and altho' I advised you to 
deserve his esteem by your good conduct, I own I never 
expected better from him. It was your duty to de- 
serve good treatment, and it gave me great concern 
to see you imprudent the first time you came to G., 
from the country, as the same conduct was repeated 
when you was last in town, I began to despair of your 
happiness. To prove to you that I do not accuse you 
falsely, I only mention five guineas and half a guinea 
for coach. But, my dear Emily, as you seem quite 
miserable now, I do not mean to give you uneasiness, 
but comfort, and tell you that I will forget your faults 
and bad conduct to Sir H. and myself, and will not 
repent my good humor if I find that you have learned 
by experience to value yourself, and endeavor to pre- 
serve your friends by good conduct and affection. I 
will now answer your last letter. You tell me you 
think your friends look cooly on you, it is therefore 
time to leave them: but it is necessary for you to de- 
cide some points before you come to town. You are 
sensible that for the next three months your situation 
will not admit of a giddy life, if you wished it. . . . 
After you have told me that Sir H. gave you barely 
money to get to your friends, and has never answered 
one letter since, and neither provides for you nor takes 
any notice of you, it might appear laughing at you to 
advise you to make Sir H. more kind and attentive. I 
do not think a great deal of time should be lost, for I 
have never seen a woman clever enough to keep a man 
who was tired of her. But it is a great deal more for 
me to advise you never to see him again, and to write 
only to inform him of your determination. You must, 
however, do either the one or the other. . . . You may 



34 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

easily see, my dearest Emily, why it is absolutely neces- 
sary for this point to be completely settled before I can 
move one step. If you love Sir H. you should not give 
him up. . . . But besides this, my Emily, I would not 
be troubled with your connexions (excepting your 
mother) and with Sir H. ('s) friends for the universe. 
My advice then is to take a steady resolution. ... I 
shall then be free to dry up the tears of my lovely 
Emily and to give her comfort. If you do not forfeit 
my esteem perhaps my Emily may be happy. You 
know I have been so by avoiding the vexation which 
frequently arises from ingratitude and caprice. 
Nothing but your letter and your distress could incline 
me to alter my system, but remember I never will give 
up my peace, or continue my connexion one moment 
after my confidence is betray 'd. If you should come 
to town and take my advice . . . You should part 
with your maid and take another name. By degrees 
I would get you a new set of acquaintances, and by 
keeping your own secret, and no one about you having 
it in their power to betray you, I may expect to see you 
respected and admired. Thus far as relates to your- 
self. As to the child ... its mother shall obtain it 
kindness from me, and it shall never want. I inclose 
you some money; do not throw it away. You may 
send some presents when you arrive in town, but do 
not be on the road without some money to spare in 
case you should be fatigued and wish to take your time. 
I will send Sophy anything she wishes for. . . . God 
bless you, my dearest lovely girl ; take your determina- 
tion and let me hear from you once more. Adieu, my 
dear Emily." * 

And with this salutation Greville folds his paper 
with precision and addresses it, in the complacent be- 
lief that it is irresistible. Truly an impeccable shep- 
1 Morrison MS. 114, January 10, 1782. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 35 

herd of lost sheep, a prodigious preacher to runagates 
continuing in scarceness; a Mr. Barlow-Rochester with 
a vengeance ! And yet real goodwill underlies the 
guardedness of his disrespectable sermon. As, how- 
ever, he sinks back in his chair, and plumes himself 
on the communique, it never strikes him for an instant 
that this wild and unfortunate girl is quite capable of 
distancing her tutor and of swaying larger destinies 
than his. His main and constant object was never to 
appear ridiculous. So absurd a forecast would have 
irretrievably grotesqued him in his own eyes and in 
those of his friends. His attitude towards women ap- 
pears best from his reflections nearly five years later, 
which read like a page of La Rochefoucauld tied up 
with red tape : — 

". . . With women, I observe they have only re- 
source in Art, and there is to them no interval between 
plain ground and the precipice; and the springs of ac- 
tion are so much in the extreme of sublime and low, 
that no absolute dependence can be given by men. It 
is for this reason I always have anticipated cases to 
prepare their mind to reasonable conduct, and it will 
always have its impression, altho' they will fly at the 
mere mention of truth if it either hurts their pride 
or their intrest, and the latter has much more rarely 
weight with a young woman than the former; and 
therefore it is like playing a trout to keep up pride to 
make them despise meaness, and not to retain the bom- 
bast which would render the man who gave way to 
it the air of a dupe and a fool. It requires much con- 
duct to steer properly, but it is to be done when a 
person is handsome, and has a good heart; but to do 
it without hurting their feelings requires constant at- 
tention; it is not in the moment of irritation or passion 
that advice has effect; it is in the moment of reason and 
good nature. It reduces itself to simple subjects; and 

Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 2 



g6 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

when a woman can see more than one alternative of 
comfort or despair, of attention and desertion, they can 
take a line." 1 

Thus Greville — the prudent psychologist of woman- 
kind and the nice moralist of the immoral. His meta- 
phor of the " trout " must have appealed to that keen 
fisherman, his " dear Hamilton." Greville angled for 
" disinterested " hearts with a supple rod. His " sys- 
tem " was to attach friendship rather than to rivet af- 
fection; to " play " a woman's heart in the quick stream 
of credulous emotion past the perilous eddies of head- 
long impulse with the bait of self-esteem, till it could 
be safely landed in a basket, to be afterwards trans- 
ferred for the fish's own benefit to a friend. If the 
trout refused thus to be landed, it must be dropped 
into the depths of its own froward will; but the sports- 
man could at least console himself by the thought that, 
as sportsman, he had done his duty and observed the 
rules of his game. Greville was already contemplat- 
ing a less expensive shrine for his minerals and old 
masters. He was anxious to be quit of Portman 
Square, and a light purse proverbially makes a heavy 
heart. 

He must be left calculating his chances, while his 
Dulcinea books places in the Chester coach, weeps for 
joy, and kisses her Don Quixote's billet with impetuous 
gratitude. 

1 Morrison MS. 156, November (?) 1786. 



CHAPTER II 

" THE FAIR TEA-MAKER OF EDGWARE ROW " 

March 1782 — August 1784 

A GIRLISH voice, fresh as the spring morning on 
Paddington Green outside, with its rim of tall 
■ elms, and clear as the warbling of their birds, 
rings out through the open window with its bright 
burden of " Banish sorrow until to-morrow." The 
music-master has just passed through the little garden- 
wicket, the benefactor will soon return from town, 
and fond Emma will please him by her progress. Na- 
ture smiles without and within ; " Mrs. Cadogan " 
bustles over the spring-cleaning below, and to-morrow 
the radiant housewife will take her shilling's-worth of 
hackney coach as far as Romney's studio in Cavendish 
Square. She is very happy; it is almost as if she were 
a young bride ; perchance, who knows, one day she may 
be Greville's wife. In her heart she is so now; and 
yet at times that hateful past will haunt her. It shall 
be buried with the winter; " I will have it so," as she 
was to write of another matter. And is it not 

"Spring-time, the only pretty ring time, 
When birds do sing hey ding a-ding a-ding"? 

Edgware Row a hundred and twenty-three years 
ago was the reverse of what it looks to-day. Its site, 
now a network of slums, was then a country prospect. 
It fronted the green sward of a common, abutting 
on the inclosure of a quaint old church, in a vault of 

37 



38 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

which, when the crowning blow fell, Lady Hamilton 
was to lay the remains of her devoted mother. That 
church had for many years been associated with artists, 
singers, and musicians, British and foreign. Here in 
March, 1733, the apprentice Hogarth had wedded Jane 
Thornhill, his master's daughter. Here lay buried 
Matthew Dubourg, the court violinist; and Emma 
could still read his epitaph : — 

" Tho' sweet as Orpheus thou couldst bring 
Soft pleadings from the trembling string, 
Unmoved the King of Terror stands 
Nor owns the magic of thy hands." 

Here, too, lay buried George Barret, " an eminent 
painter and worthy man." Here later were to lie Lolli, 
the violinist ; the artists Schiavonetti and Sandby ; Nol- 
lekens and Banks the sculptors; Alexander Geddes the 
scholar; Merlin the mechanic; Caleb Whiteford the 
wine-merchant wit ; and his great patron, John Henry 
Petty, Marquis of Lansdowne, who descends to his- 
tory as the Earl of Shelburne. Here once resided the 
charitable Denis Chirac, jeweller to Queen Anne. 
Here, too, were voluntary schools and the lying-in hos- 
pital. The canal, meandering as far as Bolingbroke's 
Hayes in one direction, and Lady Sarah Child's Nor- 
wood in the other, was not finished till 1801, when 
Lady Hamilton may have witnessed its opening cere- 
mony. 

Greville, still saddled with his town abode, at once 
economised. The Edgware Row establishment was 
modest in both senses of the word. He brought repu- 
table friends to the house, and a few neighbouring ladies 
seem to have called. The household expenses did not 
exceed some £150 a year. Emma's own yearly allow- 
ance was only about £50, and she lived well within it. 
Her mother was a clever manager, whose services the 
thrifty prodigal appreciated. The existing household 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 39 

accounts in Emma's handwriting only start in 1784, 
but from them some idea may be formed of what they 
were in the two years preceding. They belong to the 
Hamilton papers inherited by Greville in 1803, and 
they were evidently deemed worthy of preservation 
both by nephew and uncle. 

It is clear from these accounts that all was now 
"retrenchment and reform"; that all was not plenty, 
is equally apparent. But Emma was more than satis- 
fied with her lot. Had not her knight-errant (or 
erring) dropped from heaven? From the first she re- 
garded him as a superior being, and by 1784 she came 
to love him with intense tenderness ; indeed she ideal- 
ised him as much as others were afterwards to idealise 
her. 

All was not yet, however, wholly peace. Her char- 
acter was far from being ideal, quite apart from the 
circumstances which, by comparison, she viewed as 
almost conjugal. Her petulant temper remained un- 
quelled long after her tamer undertook to " break it 
in," and there were already occasional " scenes " 
against her own interest. Yet how soon and warm- 
heartedly she repented may be gathered from her let- 
ters two years onwards, when she was sea-bathing at 
Parkgate : "So, my dearest Greville," pleads one of 
them, " don't think on my past follies, think on my 
good, little as it has been." And, before, "Oh! 
Greville, when I think on your goodness, your tender 
kindness, my heart is so full of gratitude that I want 
words to express it. But I have one happiness in 
view, which I am determined to practice, and that is 
eveness of temper and steadin[e]ss of mind. For 
endead I have thought so much of your amable good- 
ness when you have been tried to the utmost, that I 
will, endead I will manege myself, and try to be like 
Greville. Endead I can never be like him. But I 



40 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

will do all I can towards it, and I am sure you will not 
desire more. I think if the time would come over 
again, I would be differant. But it does not matter. 
There is nothing like bying expearance. I may be 
happyer for it hereafter, and I will think of the time 
coming and not of the past, except to make compar- 
rasons, to shew you what alterations there is for the 
best. . . . O Greville! think on me with kindness! 
Think on how many happy days weeks and years — I 
hope — we may yett pass. . . . And endead, did you 
but know how much I love you, you wou'd freely for- 
give me any passed quarrels. For I now suffer from 
them, and one line from you wou'd make me happy. 
. . . But how am I to make you amends? ... I will 
try, I will do my utmost; and I can only regrett that 
fortune will not put it in my power to make a return 
for all the kindness and goodness you have showed 
me." 

Conscious of growing gifts, she had chafed by fits 
and starts at the seclusion of her home — for home it 
was to her, in her own words, "though never so 
homely." On one occasion (noted by Pettigrew and 
John Romney too substantially to admit of its being 
fiction) Greville took her to Ranelagh, and was an- 
noyed by her bursting into song before an applauding 
crowd. His displeasure so affected her that on her 
return she doffed her finery, donned the plainest at- 
tire, and, weeping, entreated him to retain her thus 
or be quit of her. This episode may well have 
been the source of Romney's picture " The Seam- 
stress." 

The accounts omit any mention of amusements, and 
it must have been Greville alone who (rarely) treated 
her. She may have seen " Coxe's Museum," and the 
" balloonists " Lunardi and Sheldon, the Italian at the 
Pantheon, the Briton in Foley Gardens. She may 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 41 

have been present, too, when in the new " Marylebone 
Gardens " Signor Torre gave one of his firework dis- 
plays of Mount Etna in eruption. If so, how odd 
must she afterwards have thought it, that her hus- 
band was to be the leading authority on Italian and 
Sicilian volcanoes ! But what at once amazed Greville 
— the paragon of ml admirari — was the transformation 
that she seriously set herself to achieve. " She does 
not," observed this economist of ease three years later, 
" wish for much society, but to retain two or three 
creditable acquaintances in the neighbourhood she has 
avoided every appearance of giddiness, and prides 
herself on the neatness of her person and the good 
order of her house; these are habits," he comments, 
" both comfortable and convenient to me. She has 
vanity and likes admiration; but she connects it so 
much with her desire of appearing prudent, that she is 
more pleas' d with accidental admiration than that of 
crozvds which now distress her. In short, this habit, 
of three or four years' acquiring, is not a caprice, but is 
easily to be continued. . . ." " She never has wished 
for an improper acquaintance," he adds a month later. 
" She has dropt everyone she thought I could except 
against, and those of her own choice have been in a 
line of prudence and plainness which, tho' I might have 
wished for, I could not have proposed to confine her 
[to]." 

Their visitors seem to have included his brother and 
future executor, Colonel the Honourable Robert Fulke- 
Greville, with perhaps, too, his kinsmen the Cathcarts; 
afterwards, the sedate Banks, a Mr. Tollemache, the 
Honourable Heneage Legge, whom we shall find meet- 
ing her just before her marriage, and oftener the artist 
Gavin Hamilton, Sir William's namesake and kinsman. 
He at once put Emma on his " list of favorites," re- 
minding him, as she did, of a Roman beauty that he 



; 4 2 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

had once known, but superior to her, he said, in the 
lines of her beautiful and uncommon mouth. Her 
main recreation, besides her study to educate herself, 
were those continual visits to Romney, which indeed 
assisted it. His Diaries contain almost three hundred 
records of " Mrs. Hart's " sittings during these four 
years, most of them at an early hour, for Emma, ex- 
cept in illness, was never a late riser. One portrait of 
her, unmentioned in our previous list, represents her 
reading the Gazette with a startled expression. I have 
been informed (though at first I thought otherwise) 
that this is really a likeness of her in the character of 
Serena reading scandal about herself in the pages of a 
journal. " While," remarks the sententious John 
Romney, " she lived under Greville's protection, her 
conduct was in every way correct, except only in the 
unfortunate situation in which she happened to be 
placed by the concurrence of peculiar circumstances 
such as might perhaps in a certain degree be admitted 
as an extenuation. . . . Here is a young female of 
an artless and playful character, of extraordinary Ele- 
gance and symmetry of form, of a most beautiful coun- 
tenance glowing with health and animation, turned 
upon the wide world. ... In all Mr. Romney's inter- 
course with her she was treated with the utmost re- 
spect, and her demeanour fully entitled her to it." He 
adds that she " sat " for the " face " merely and " a 
slight sketch of the attitude," and that in the " Bac- 
chante " he painted her countenance alone ; while Hay- 
ley, in his Life of the painter, speaks of" the high and 
constant admiration " with which Romney contem- 
plated not only the " personal " but the " mental en- 
dowments of this lady, and the gratitude he felt for 
many proofs of her friendship," as expressed in his 
letters. " The talents," he continues, " which nature 
bestowed on the fair Emma, led her to delight in the 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 43 

two kindred arts of music and painting; in the first she 
acquired great practical ability; for the second she 
had exquisite taste, and such expressive powers as 
could furnish to an historical painter an inspiring 
model for the various characters either delicate or 
sublime. . . . Her features, like the language of 
Shakespeare, could exhibit all the gradations of every 
passion with a most fascinating truth and felicity of 
expression. Romney delighted in observing the won- 
derful command she possessed over her eloquent 
features." He called her his " inspirer." To Rom- 
ney, as we have already seen, she " first opened her 
heart." At Romney's she met those literary and 
artistic lights that urged her native intelligence into 
imitation. A sketch by Romney of his studio displays 
her seated as his model for the " Spinstress " by her 
spinning-wheel. A figure entering and smiling is 
Greville ; of two others seated at a table, the one appeal- 
ing to her would seem to be Hayley, to whom she al- 
ways gratefully confessed her obligations. 

William Hayley, the " Hermit " of Eartham, the 
close ally both of Romney and Cowper, must have been 
far more interesting in his conversation than his books, 
though his Triumphs of Temper created a sensation 
now difficult to understand. He was a clever, ego- 
tistical eccentric, who successively parted from two 
wives with whom he yet continued to correspond in af- 
fectionate friendship. Curiously enough, Hayley's 
rhymed satirical comedies * are much the best of his 
otherwise stilted verses. He must have remembered 
Hamilton and Greville when, in one of them, he makes 
" Mr. Beril " account for his ownership of a lovely 
Greek statue: 

1 The Happy Prescription (1784) and The Two Connoisseurs 
are brilliant vers de societe. For Horace Walpole's poor opinion 
of his authorship, cf. Letters, vol. viii. pp. 235, 236, 251. 



£4 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

"I owe it to chance, to acknowledge the truth, 
And a princely and brave Neapolitan youth, 
Whom I luckily saved in a villainous strife 
From the dagger of jealousy aimed at his life:" 

and when his " Bijou " ironically observes to " Var- 
nish " : 

" I protest your remark is ingenious and new, 
You have gusto in morals as well as virtu : " 

His unfamiliar sonnet on Romney's " Cassandra " 
may be here cited, since it may have suggested to 
Greville his estimate of Emma — " piece of modern 
virtu " : 

"Ye fond idolaters of ancient art, 

Who near Parthenope with curious toil, 
Forcing the rude sulphureous rocks to part, 

Draw from the greedy earth her buried spoil 
Of antique entablature; and from the toil 

Of time restoring some fair form, acquire 
A fancied jewel, know 'tis but a foil 

To this superior gem of richer fire. 
In Romney's tints behold the Trojan maid, 

See beauty blazing in prophetic ire. 
From palaces engulphed could earth retire, 

And show thy works, Apelles, undecay'd, 
E'en thy Campaspe would not dare to vie 
With the wild splendour of Cassandra's eye." 

In a late letter to Lady Hamilton the poet assures 
her that an unpublished ode was wholly inspired by 
her, and there are traces of her influence even in his 
poor tragedies. But since " Serena " influenced her 
often, it may be of interest to single out a few lines 
from the Triumphs of Temper (composed some years 
before its author first met her) as likelier to have ar- 
rested her attention than his triter commonplaces about 
" spleen " and " cheerfulness " : 

" Free from ambitious pride and envious care, 
To love and to be loved was all her prayer." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 45 

" Th' imperishable wealth of sterling love." 

"... She's everything by starts and nothing long, 
But in the space of one revolving hour 
Flies thro all states of poverty and power, 
All forms on whom her veering mind can pitch, 
Sultana, Gipsy, Goddess, nymph, and witch. 
At length, her soul with Shakespeare's magic fraught, 
The wand of Ariel fixed her roving thought." 

And 

" But mild Serena scorn'd the prudish play 
To wound warm love with frivolous delay; 
Nature's chaste child, not Affection's slave, 
The heart she meant to give, she frankly gave." 

The August of 1782 brought about an event decisive 
for Emma's future — the death of the first Lady Ham- 
ilton, the Ambassador's marriage with whom in 1757 
had been mainly one of convenience, though it had 
proved one also of comfort and esteem. She was a 
sweet, tranquil soul of rapt holiness, what the Germans 
call " Eine schone Seele," and she worshipped the very 
earth that her light-hearted husband, far nearer to it 
than she was, trod on. He had set out as a young 
captain of foot, who, in his own words, had " known 
the pinch of poverty " ; but during the whole twenty- 
five years of their union she had never once reproached 
him, and had dedicated to him all " that long disease " 
she called " her life." So far, though intimate with 
the young Sicilian King and friendly with the Queen, 
Hamilton had weighed little in diplomacy. In a 
sprightly letter to the Earl of Dartmouth some six 
years earlier, he observes : " It is singular but certainly 
true that I am become more a ministre de famille at 
this court than ever were the ministers of France, 
Spain, and Vienna. Whenever there is a good shoot- 
ing-party H.S. Majesty is pleased to send for me, and 
for some months past I have had the honour of dining 



46 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

with him twice or three times a week, nay sometimes 
I have breakfasted, dined, and supped ... in their 
private party without any other minister." He next 
descants on his exceptional opportunities of helping the 
English in Naples. He hits off a certain Lady Boyd 
among them as " Like Mr. Wilkes, but she has [such] 
a way of pushing forward that face of hers and filling 
every muscle of it with good humour, that her homeli- 
ness is forgot in a moment "; and he concludes with the 
usual complaint that — unlike his predecessor, Sir Will- 
iam Lynch — he has not yet been made " Privy Coun- 
cillor." So dissatisfied was he that in 1774 he had 
tried hard on one of his periodical home visits to ex- 
change his ambassadorship at Naples for one at 
Madrid ; and hitherto science, music, pictures, archaeol- 
ogy, sport, and gallantry had occupied his constant 
leisure — indeed he was more of a Consul than of an 
Ambassador. General Acton's advent, however, as 
Minister of War and Marine in 1779 proved a passing 
stimulus to his dormant energy. If a dawdler, he was 
never a trifler; and he was uniformly courteous and 
kind-hearted. His frank geniality recommended him 
as bear-leader to the many English visitors who flocked 
annually to Naples, often stumbled lightly into scrapes 
that caused him infinite trouble, and prompted his 
humorous regret that Magna Charta contained no 
clause forbidding Britons to emigrate. It was not till 
Emma dawned on his horizon that he woke up in 
earnest to the duties of his office. His wife made 
every effort, so far as her feeble health admitted, to 
grace his hospitalities. She shared his own taste for 
music, and sang to the harpsichord before the Court of 
Vienna. The sole regret of her unselfish piety was 
that he remained a worldling. She studied to spare 
him every vexation and intrusion; and while he pur- 
sued his long rambles, sporting, artistic, or sentimental, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 47 

she sat at home praying for her elderly Pierrot's 
eternal welfare. Her example dispensed with pre- 
cepts, and hoped to win her wanderer back imper- 
ceptibly. How little she deserved the caricature of 
her as merely " a raw-boned Scotchwoman " may be 
gleaned from some of the last jottings in her diary and 
her last letters to her husband : — 

" How tedious are the hours I pass in the absence of 
the beloved of my heart, and how tiresome is every 
scene to me. There is the chair in which he used to 
sit, I find him not there, and my heart feels a pang, 
and my foolish eyes overflow with tears. The num- 
ber of years we have been married, instead of dimin- 
ishing my love have increased it to that degree and 
wound it up with my existence in such a manner that 
it cannot alter. How strong are the efforts I have 
made to conquer my feelings, but in vain. . . . No 
one but those who have felt it can know the miserable 
anxiety of an undivided love. When he is present, 
every object has a different appearance; when he is 
absent, how lonely, how isolated I feel. ... I re- 
turn home, and there the very dog stares me in the 
face and seems to ask for its beloved master. . . . Oh ! 
blessed Lord God and Saviour, be Thou mercifully 
pleas'd to guard and protect him in all dangers and in 
all situations. Have mercy upon us both, oh Lord, 
and turn our hearts to Thee." 

" A few days, nay a few hours . . . may render 
me incapable of writing to you. . . . But how shall I 
express my love and tenderness to you, dearest of 
earthly blessings. My only attachment to this world 
has been my love to you, and you are my only regret in 
leaving it. My heart has followed your footsteps 
where ever you went, and you have been the source of 
all my joys. I would have preferred beggary with 
you to kingdoms without you, but all this must have 



48 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

an end — forget and forgive my faults and remember 
me with kindness. I entreat you not to suffer me to 
be shut up after I am dead till it is absolutely necessary. 
Remember the promise you have made me that your 
bones should lie by mine when God shall please to call 
you, and leave directions in your will about it." 

That promise was kept, and the man of the world 
sleeps by the daughter of heaven, re-united in the Pem- 
brokeshire vault. A possibly adopted daughter — 
Cecilia — who is mentioned in the greetings of early 
correspondents, had died some seven years before. 

Could any Calypso replace such pure devotion ? Yet 
Calypsos there had been already — among their num- 
ber the divorced lady who became Margravine of 
Anspach, the " sweet little creature qui a I'honneur de 
me plaire," and whom he pitied ; a " Madame 
Tschudy " ; a " Lady A.," contrasted by Greville in 
1785 with Emma; and, perhaps platonically, those 
gifted artists Diana Beauclerk, once Lady Bolingbroke, 
and Mrs. Darner, who was to sculpture one of the two 
busts of Nelson done from the life. In England as 
well as Naples flirtation was the order of the day. Yet 
about Sir William there must have been a charm of 
demeanour, a calm of ease and good nature, and a 
certain worldly unselfishness which could fasten such 
spiritual love more surely than the love profane. He 
was a sincere worshipper of beauty, both in art and 
nature; while Goethe himself respected his discrim- 
inating taste. He was a Stoic-Epicurean, a " philoso- 
pher." His confession of faith and outlook upon ex- 
istence are well outlined in a letter to Emma of 1792 
which deserves attention. " My study of antiquities 
has kept me in constant thought of the perpetual fluctu- 
ation of everything. The whole art is, really, to live 
all the days of our life; and not, with anxious care, 
disturb the sweetest hour that life affords — which is, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 49 

the present. Admire the Creator, and all His works 
to us incomprehensible; and do all the good you can 
upon earth; and take the chance of eternity without 
dismay." 

Absent since 1778, he came over at the close of 1782 
to bury his wife. It is just possible that even then he 
may have caught a flying glimpse of the girl whom he 
was to style two years later " the fair tea-maker of 
Edgware Row." Greville, of course, was punctual in 
condolence : " You have no idea how shocked I was. 
. . . Yet when I consider the long period of her in- 
disposition and the weakness of her frame, I ought 
to have been prepared to hear it. I am glad that her 
last illness was not attended with extraordinary suffer- 
ing, and I know you so well that I am sure you will 
think with affection and regret, as often as the blank 
which must be felt after 25 years society shall call her 
to your memory, and it will not be a small consolation 
that to the last you shew'd that kindness and attention 
to her which she deserved. / have often quoted you 
for that conduct which few have goodness of heart or 
principle to imitate/' He had hoped to hasten to his 
dearest Hamilton's side in the crisis of affliction, but 
his brother's affairs, the troubles of trusteeships, and 
the bequest by Lord Seaforth of a rare cameo, alas! in- 
tervened, and therefore he could not come. So Mount 
Vesuvius-Hamilton hurried to Mahomet-Greville, and 
doubtless, after a little virtu and more business, re- 
turned for the autumn season at Naples and his winter 
sport at Caserta. 

But meanwhile Greville grew ruffled and out-at- 
elbows. He was once more member for his family 
borough. He needed larger emolument, yet the coali- 
tion was on the wane. For a brief interval it returned, 
and Greville breathed again, pocketing a small promo- 
tion in the general scramble for office. In 1783, how-. 



150 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

ever, the great Pitt entered on his long reign, and Grev- 
ille's heart sank once more. His post, however, was 
confirmed, despite his conscientious disapproval of re- 
forms for England and for Ireland, and new India bills 
in the interval. Still, his tastes were so various that 
even now he pondered if, after all, an heiress of ton 
(none of your parvenues) were not the only way out; 
and, pending decision, he went on collecting crystals, 
exchanging pictures of saints, and lecturing Emma on 
the convenances — perhaps the least extravagant and 
most edifying pastime of all. Every August he toured 
in Warwickshire after his own, and to Milford and 
Pembrokeshire after his uncle's affairs (for Milford 
was being " developed ") ; nor was he the man to be- 
grudge his Sieve a few weeks' change in the dull season 
during his absence. In 1784 she was to require it 
more than usual, for sea-baths had been ordered, while 
her first thought was then to be for her " little Emma," 
now being tended at Hawarden. 

In the early summer of this very year Sir William 
Hamilton had reappeared as widower, and crossed the 
threshold of Edgware Row to the flurry, doubtless, of 
the little handmaidens, whose successors, " Molly 
Dring " and " Nelly Gray," were so regularly paid 
their scanty wages, as registered in the surviving ac- 
counts. 

The courtly connoisseur was enraptured. Never 
had he beheld anything more Greek, any one more 
naturally accomplished, more uncommon. What an 
old slyboots had this young nephew been these last 
two years, to have concealed this hidden treasure while 
he detailed everything else in his letters ! The demure 
rogue, then, was a suburban amateur with a vengeance ! 
The antiquarian- Apollo, carrying with him a new work 
on Etruscan vases, and a new tract on volcanic 
phenomena, flattered himself that here were volcanoes 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 51 

and vases indeed. Here were Melpomene and Thalia, 
and Terpsichore and Euterpe and Venus, all combined 
and breathing. Did he not boast the secret of per- 
petual youth? After all, he was only fifty- four, and 
he looked ten years younger than his age. He would 
at least make the solemn youngster jealous. Not that 
he was covetous; his interest was that of a father, a 
collector, an uncle. The mere lack of a ring debarred 
him from being her uncle in reality. " My uncle," 
she should call him. 

Greville's amusement was not quite unclouded; he 
laughed, but laughed uneasily. To begin with, he be- 
lieved himself his uncle's heir, but as yet 'twas " not 
so nominated in the bond." Sir William might well 
remarry. There was Lord Middleton's second daugh- 
ter in Portman Square, a twenty thousand pounder, 
weighing on the scales, a fish claimed by Greville's own 
rod. But with others, the Court of Naples, an alli- 
ance with a widower kinsman of the Hamiltons, the 
Athols, the Abercorns, and the Grahams, enriched too 
by recent death, were solidities that might well out- 
weigh his paltry pittance of six hundred a year. And 
if the widower re-married ? — As for Emma, it was of 
course absurd to consider her. She adored her 
Greville, and should uncle William choose to play 
light father in this little farce, he could raise no ob- 
jection. 

Emma herself felt flattered that one so celebrated 
and learned should deign to be just a nice new friend. 
He was so amiable and attentive; so discerning of her 
gifts; so witty too, and full of anecdote. This was no 
musty scholar, but a good-natured man of the very 
wide world, far wider than her pent-in corner of it. 
Indeed, he was a " dear." And then he laughed so 
heartily when she mimicked Greville's buckram 
brother, or that rich young coxcomb Willoughby, who 



52 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

had wooed her in vain already; no giddy youths for 
her. Was not her own matchless Greville a man of 
accomplishments, a bachelor of arts and sciences, a 
master of sentences? The uncle was worthy of the 
nephew, and so she was " his oblidged humble servant, 
or affectionate " niece " Emma," whichever he " liked 
the best." 

And in her heart of hearts already lurked a little 
scheme. Her child, the child to whom Greville had 
been so suddenly, so gently kind, and after which she 
yearned, was with her grandmother. After she had 
taken the tiny companion to Parkgate, and bathed it 
there, why should not her divinity permit the mother 
to bring it home for good to Edgware Row? It 
would form a new and touching tie between them. 
The plan must not be broached till she could report on 
" little Emma's " progress, but surely then he would 
not have the heart to deny her. 

Some evidence allows the guess that she had 
confided her desire to Sir William, and that 
he had favoured and forwarded her suit with Grev- 
ille. 

And so she left the smoke and turmoil, hopeful and 
trustful. Mother and child would at length be re- 
united under purer skies and by the wide expanse of 
sea. All the mother within her stirred and called 
aloud; her heart was ready to "break" at the sum- 
mons. Fatherly Sir William saw her off as proxy for 
her absent Greville, whom he was to join, the happy 
man. " Tell Sir William everything you can," she 
wrote immediately, " and tell him I am sorry our 
situation prevented me from giving him a kiss, . . . 
but I will give him one, and entreat it if he will accept 
it. Ask him how I looked, and let him say something 
kind to me when you write." — " Pray, my dear 
Greville, do lett me come home as sooh as you can; 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 53 

. . . indeed I have no pleasure or happiness. I wish 
I could not think on you; but if I was the greatest lady 
in the world, I should not be happy from you; so 
don't lett me stay long." 

Her first Parkgate letters, in the form of diaries, 
speak for themselves. After she had fetched away 
little Emma " Hart " from her grandmother's at 
Hawarden, she stopped at Chester. She had fixed on 
Abergele, but it proved too distant, fashionable, and 
dear. "High Lake" (Hoylake) was too uncom- 
fortable; it had " only 3 houses," and not one of them 
" fit for a Christian." With her " poor Emma " she 
had bidden farewell to all her friends; she had taken 
her from " a good home " ; she hoped she would prove 
worthy of his " goodness to her, and to her mother." 
Her recipe-book had been forgotten ; — " parting with 
you made me so unhappy." — " My dear Greville, don't 
be angry, but I gave my granmother 5 guineas, for she 
had laid some [money] out on her, and I would not 
take her awhay shabbily. But Emma shall pay you. 
. . . My dear Greville, I wish I was with you. God 
bless you ! " 

By mid- June she was installed " in the house of a 
Laidy, whose husband is at sea. She and her gran- 
mother live together, and we board with her at present. 
. . . The price is high, but they don't lodge anybody 
without boarding; and as it is comfortable, decent, 
and quiet, I thought it wou'd not ruin us, till I could 
have your oppionon, which I hope to have freely and 
without restraint, as, believe me, you will give it to 
one who will allways be happy to follow it, lett it be 
what it will; as I am sure you wou'd not lead me 
wrong. And though my little temper may have been 
sometimes high, believe me, I have allways thought 
you right in the end when I have come to reason. I 
bathe, and find the water very soult. Here is a good 



54 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

many laidys batheing, but I have no society with them, 
as it is best not. So pray, my dearest Greville, write 
soon, and tell me what to do, as I will do just what 
you think proper ; and tell me what to do with the child. 
For she is a great romp, and I can hardly master her. 
. . . She is tall, [has] good eys and brows, and as to 
lashes, she will be passible; but she has overgrown all 
her cloaths. I am makeing and mending all as I can 
for her. . . . Pray, my dear Greville, do lett me come 
home, as soon as you can; for I am all most broken- 
hearted being from you. . . . You don't know how 
much I love you, and your behaiver to me, when we 
parted, was so kind, Greville, I don't know what to 
do. . . ." And her next epistle seems to echo under 
circumstances far removed the voice of the first Lady 
Hamilton : — " How teadous does the time pass awhay 
till I hear from you. Endead I should be miserable if 
I did not recollect on what happy terms we parted — ■ 
parted, yess, but to meet again with tenfould happiness. 
. . . Would you think it, Greville ? Emma — the wild, 
unthinking Emma, is a grave, thoughtful phylosopher. 
Tis true, Greville, and I will convince you I am, when 
I see you. But how I am riming on. I say nothing 
abbout this guidy, wild girl of mine. What shall we 
do with her, Greville ? . . . Wou'd you believe, on Sat- 
tarday we had a little quarel, . . . and I did slap her 
on her hands, and when she came to kiss me and make 
it up, I took her on my lap and cried. Pray, do you 
blame me or not? Pray tell me. Oh, Greville, you 
don't know how I love her. Endead I do. When 
she comes and looks in my face and calls me ' mother' 
endead I then truly am a mother, for all the mother's 
feelings rise at once, and tels me I am or ought to 
be a mother, for she has a wright to my protection; 
and she shall have it as long as I can, and I will do all 
in my power to prevent her falling into the error her 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 55 

poor miserable mother fell into. But why do I say 
miserable? Am not I happy abbove any of my sex, 
at least in my situation? Does not Greville love me, 
or at least like me? Does not he protect me? Does 
not he provide for me ? Is not he a father to my child ? 
Why do I call myself miserable? No, it was a mis- 
take, and I will be happy, chearful and kind, and do 
all my poor abbility will lett me, to return the fatherly 
goodness and protection he has shewn. Again, my 
dear Greville, the recollection of past scenes brings 
tears in my eyes. But the[y] are tears of happiness. 
To think of your goodness is too much. But once for 
all, Greville, I will be grateful. Adue. It is near 
bathing time, and I must lay down my pen, and I won't 
finish till I see when the post comes, whether there is a 
letter. He comes in abbout one o'clock. I hope to 
have a letter to-day. ... I am in hopes I shall be 
very well. . . . But, Greville, I am oblidged to give a 
shilling a day for the bathing horse and whoman, and 
twopence a day for the dress. It is a great expense, 
and it fretts me when I think of it. . . . At any rate 
it is better than paying the docter. But wright your 
oppinion truly, and tell me what to do. Emma is cry- 
ing because I won't come and bathe. So Greville, adue 
till after I have dipt. May God bless you, my dear- 
est Greville, and believe me, faithfully, affectionately, 
and truly yours only." — " And no letter from my dear 
Greville. Why, my dearest G., what is the reason you 
don't wright? You promised to wright before I left 
Hawarden. . . . Give my dear kind love and compli- 
ments to Pliney, 1 and tell him I put you under his care, 
and he must be answereble for you to me, wen I see 
him. . . . Say everything you can to him for me, and 
tell him I shall always think on him with gratitude, 
and remember him with pleasure, and shall allways 
1 Sir W. Hamilton. 



56 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

regret loesing [h]is good comppany. Tell him I wish 
him every happiness this world can afford him, and 
that I will pray for him and bless him as long as I live. 
. . . Pray, my dear Greville, lett me come home soon. 
I have been 3 weeks, and if I stay a fortnight longer, 
that will be 5 weeks, you know; and then the expense 
is above 2 guineas a week with washing . . . and 
everything. ..." " With what impatience do I sett 
down to wright till I see the postman. But sure I shall 
have a letter to-day. Can you, Greville — no, you can't 
— have forgot your poor Emma allready ? Tho' I am 
but a few weeks absent from you, my heart will not 
one moment leave you. I am allways thinking of you, 
and cou'd allmost fancy I hear you, see you; . . . 
don't you remember how you promised? Don't you 
recollect what you said at parting? how you shou'd be 
happy to see me again?" 

A belated answer arrived at last; Emma was very 
grateful. But this was not the letter for which she 
looked. What she wanted was omniscience's per- 
mission for " little Emma " to share their home, to 
let her be a mother indeed. After a week two " scold- 
ing " notes were his reply. " Little Emma " in Edg- 
ware Row was not on Greville's books at all. He 
would charge himself with her nurture elsewhere, but 
the child must be surrendered ; he certainly knew how 
to " play " his " trout." Emma meekly kissed her 
master's rod. Greville being Providence, resignation 
was wisdom as well as duty. She was not allowed 
to remain a mother : — 

" I was very happy, my dearest Greville, to hear 
from you as your other letter vex'd me; you scolded 
me so. But it is over, and I forgive you. . . . You 
don't know, my dearest Greville, what a pleasure I 
have to think that my poor Emma will be comfortable 
and happy . . . and if she does but turn out well, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 57 

what a happyness it will be. And I hope she will for 
your sake. I will teach her to pray for you as long 
as she lives; and if she is not grateful and good it 
won't be my fault. But what you say is very true : a 
bad disposition may be made good by good example, 
and Greville wou'd not put her anywheer to have a bad 
one. I come into your whay athinking; hollidays spoils 
children. It takes there attention of[f] from there 
scool, it gives them a bad habbit. When they have 
been a month and goes back this does not pleas them, 
and that is not wright, and the[y] do nothing but 
think when the[y] shall go back again. Now Emma 
will never expect what she never had. But I won't 
think. All my happiness now is Greville, and to 
think that he loves me. ... I have said all I have to 
say about Emma, yet only she gives her duty. ... I 
have no society with anybody but the mistress of the 
house, and her mother and sister. The latter is a 
very genteel yong lady, good-nattured, and does every- 
thing to pleas me. But still I wou'd rather be at 
home, if you was there. I follow the old saying, home 
is home though 'tis ever so homely. . . . PS. — . . . 
I bathe Emma, and she is very well and grows. Her 
hair will grow very well on her forehead, and I don't 
think her nose will be very snub. Her eys is blue and 
pretty. But she don't speak through her nose, but she 
speaks countryfied, but she will forget it. We squable 
sometimes; still she is fond of me, and endead I love 
her. For she is sensible. So much for Beauty. 
Adue, I long to see you." x 

Empowered by the Sultan of Edgware Row, the 
two Emmas, to their great but fleeting joy, were suf- 

1 Morrison MS. 128. There is, of course, no conclusive evi- 
dence for identifying " little Emma " with the nameless child 
born early in 1782, but I can see no reason otherwise, or for 
supposing an earlier "Emma." 



58 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

fered to return in the middle of July. Sir William 
and his nephew were still on their provincial tour, when 
Emma, who fell ill again in town, thus addressed 
him for the last time before his own return. It shall 
be our closing excerpt : — 

" I received your kind letter last night, and, my dear- 
est Greville, I want words to express to you how 
happy it made me. For I thought I was like a lost 
sheep, and everybody had forsook me. I was eight 
days confined to my room and very ill, but am, thank 
God, very well now, and a great deal better for your 
kind instructing letter, and own the justice of your 
remarks. You shall have your appartment to your- 
self, you shall read, wright, or sett still, just as you 
pleas; for I shall think myself happy to be under the 
seam roof with Greville, and do all I can to make it 
agreable, without disturbing him in any pursuits that he 
can follow, to employ himself in at home or else whare. 
For your absence has taught me that I ought to think 
myself happy if I was within a mile of you; so as I 
cou'd see the place as contained you I shou'd think my- 
self happy abbove my sphear. So, my dear G., come 
home. . . . You shall find me good, kind, gentle, and 
affectionate, and everything you wish me to do I will 
do. For I will give myself a fair trial, and follow 
your advice, for I allways think it wright. . . . Don't 
think, Greville, this is the wild fancy of a moment's 
consideration. It is not. I have thoughroly con- 
sidered everything in my confinement, and say nothing 
now but what I shall practice. ... I have a deal to 
say to you when I see you. Oh, Greville, to think it is 
9 weeks since I saw you. I think I shall die with the 
pleasure of seeing you. ... I am all ways thinking of 
your goodness. . . . Emma is very well, and is allways 
wondering why you don't come home. She sends her 
duty to you. . . . Pray, pray come as soon as you 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 59 

come to town. Good by, God bless you ! Oh, how I 
long to see you." 

It should be at once remarked that Greville conscien- 
tiously performed his promise. He put " little 
Emma " to a good school, and several traces of her 
future survive. Meanwhile, having won his point, and 
having also " prepared " her mind for another separa- 
tion, of which she little dreamed, he came back to his 
bower of thankful worship and submissive meekness. 
He can scarcely have played often with the child, 
whose benefactor he was — a dancing-master, so to 
speak, of beneficence, ever standing in the first posi- 
tion of correct deportment. In August he bade fare- 
well to his indulgent uncle, whom, indeed, he had " rea- 
son " to remember with as much " gratitude and affec- 
tion " as Emma did. Romney was commissioned to 
paint her as the " Bacchante " for the returning Am- 
bassador, who had reassured his nephew about the 
distant future. He had appointed him his heir, and 
offered to stand security if he needed to borrow. He 
had also joined Greville's other friends in advising him 
to bow to the inevitable and console his purse with an 
heiress. Whether he also had already contemplated an 
exchange seems more than doubtful. But the secretive 
Greville had already begun to harbour an idea, soon 
turned into a plan, and perpetually justified as a piece 
of benevolent unselfishness. While the ship bears the 
unwedded uncle to softer climes and laxer standards, 
while Greville, with a sigh of relief, pores over his 
accounts, we may well exclaim of these two knowing 
and obliging materialists, par nobile fratrum — a noble 
brace of brothers indeed! 



CHAPTER III 

" WHAT GOD, AND GREVILLE, PLEASES " 

To March, 1786 

44 ~W REALY do not feel myself in a situation to 
accept favours." " I depend on you for some 

-*■ cristals in lavas, etc., from Sicily." These 
sentences from two long epistles to his uncle at the 
close of 1784 are keynotes to Greville's tune of mind. 
With the new year he became rather more explicit : — • 
" Emma is very grateful for your remembrance. Her 
picture shall be sent by the first ship — I wish Romney 
yet to mend the dog-. 1 She certainly is much improved 
since she has been with me. She has none of the bad 
habits which giddiness and inexperience encouraged, 
and which bad choice of company introduced. ... I 
am sure she is attached to me, or she would not have 
refused the offers which I know have been great; and 
such is her spirit that on the least slight or expression 
of my being tired or burthened by her, I am sure she 
would not only give up the connexion, but would not 
even accept a farthing for future assistance." 

Here let us pause a moment. In the " honest bar- 
gain " shortly to be struck after much obliquity, 
Greville's shabbiness consists, if we reflect on the pre- 
vailing tone of his age and set, not so much in the dis- 
guised transfer — a mean trick in itself — as in the fact 

1 In the first picture of the " Bacchante." Some trace of a goat 
as well as of a dog figures in all the known versions. 

60 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 61 

that, while he had no reproach to make and was avow- 
edly more attached to her than ever, he practised upon 
the very disinterestedness and fondness that he praised. 
Had he been unable to rely on them with absolute confi- 
dence, so wary a strategist would scarcely have ven- 
tured on the attempt, since his future prospects largely 
depended on her never disadvantaging him with Sir 
William. That she never did so, even in the first burst 
of bitter disillusion; that she always, and zealously, 
advocated his interests, redounds to her credit and 
proves her magnanimity. A revengeful woman, whose 
love and self-love had been wounded to the quick, 
might have ruined him, as the censor of Paddington 
was well aware. That he continued to approve his part 
in these delicate negotiations is shown by the fact of 
preserving these letters after they came into his pos- 
session as his uncle's executor. He never ceased to pro- 
test that his motives in the transaction were for her own 
ultimate good. He was not callous, but he was Jesuit- 
ical. Let him pursue his scattered hints further : — 

" This is another part of my situation. If I was in- 
dependent I should think so little of any other con-, 
nexion that I never would marry. I have not an idea 
of it at present, but if any proper opportunity offer'd 
I shou'd be much harassed, not know how to manage, 
or how to fix Emma to her satisfaction; and to forego 
the reasonable plan which you and my friends ad- 
vised is not right. I am not quite of an age to re- 
tire from bustle, and to retire into distress and poverty 
is worse. I can keep on here creditably this winter. 
The offer I made of my pictures is to get rid of the 
Humberston engagements which I told you of. I have 
a £1000 ready and 1000 to provide. I therefore am 
making money. If Ross will take in payment from 
me my bond with your security, I shall get free from 
Humberston affairs entirely, and be able to give them 



62 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

up. It is indifferent to me whether what I value is in 
your keeping or mine. I will deposit with you gems 
which you shall value at above that sum. ... It will 
be on that condition I will involve you, for favor I take 
as favor, and business as business." 

His subsequent communications dole out the grow- 
ing plot by degrees and approaches; he works by sap 
and mine. In March, 1785, after discussing politics 
at large, he doubts if his uncle's " heart or his feet " 
are " the lightest." He compliments him on his energy 
in sport, flirtation, and friendship — " quests " not " in- 
compatible " in " a good heart." He moots his design 
in the light of Hamilton's welfare. " He must be a 
very interested friend indeed who does not sincerely 
wish everything that can give happiness to a friend." 
He is convinced that each of them can sincerely judge 
for the other. He does not, of course, venture to 
" suppose " an " experiment " for the diplomatist ; but 
he himself has made the happiest though a " limited " 
experiment, which, however, " from poverty . . . can- 
not last " ; his poverty but not his will consents. And 
then he opens the scheme. " // you did not chuse a 
wife, I wish the tea-maker of Edgware Rozve was 
yours, if I could without banishing myself from a visit 
to Naples. I do not know hozu to part with what I 
qm not tired with. I do not know hoiv to go on, and 
I give her every merit of prudence and moderation and 
affection. She shall never want, and if I decide sooner 
!han I am forced to stop by necessity, it will be that I 
may give her part of my pittance; and, if I do so it 
must be by sudden resolution and by putting it out of 
her power to refuse it for I know her disinterestedness 
to be such that she will rather encounter any difficulty 
than distress me. I should not write to you thus, if I 
did not think you seem'd as partial as I am to her. She 
would not hear at once of any change, and from no 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 63 

one that was not liked by her. I think I could secure 
on her near f 100 a year. It is more than in justice 
to all I can do; but with parting with part of my virtu, 
I can secure it to her and content myself with the re- 
mainder. I think you might settle another on her. 
... I am not a dog in the manger. If I could go on 
I would never make this arrangement, but to be re- 
duced to a standstill and involve myself in distress 
further than I could extricate myself, and then to be 
unable to provide for her at all, would make me mis- 
erable from thinking myself unjust to her. And as 
she is too young and handsome to retire into a con- 
vent or the country, and is honorable and honest and 
can be trusted, after reconciling myself to the neces- 
sity I consider where she could be happy. I know you 
thought me jealous of your attention to her; I can as- 
sure you her conduct entitles her more. than ever to 
my confidence. Judge, then, as you know my satisfac- 
tion in looking on a modern piece of virtu, if I do not 
think you a second self, in thinking that by placing her 
within your reach, I render a necessity which would 
otherwise be heartbreaking tolerable and even com- 
forting." 

Having prepared the ground, he wrote again in the 
following May, " without affectation or disguise." 
Delicacy had prevented him from writing about " Lady 
C [raven] " who, Hamilton's friends were glad to 
learn, had departed. Would not all of them prefer one 
like Emma? The " odds " in their own two lives were 
not " proportioned to the difference " of their years; he 
was very " sensible " of his uncle's intentions towards 
him. At what followed Sir William must have smiled. 

The real reason for all his fencing emerges. Sir 
William's joint security on the pledge of half his 
minerals, the assurance that he was made his heir, 
were mere credentials to be shown by Greville to a 



64 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

prospective father-in-law. " Suppose a lady of 30,000 
was to marry me," and so forth — a vista of married 
fortune. Even now the name of the lady thus hon- 
oured was withheld; but Hamilton must have known it 
perfectly: ". . . If you dislike my frankness, I shall 
be sorry, for it cost me a little to throw myself so open, 
and to no one's friendship could I have trusted myself 
but to yours, from which I have ever been treated 
with indulgence and preference." 

A month more and he disclosed a positive, if 
" distant and imperfect," prospect. Lord Middleton's 
youngest daughter was the favoured lady — in the 
" requisites of beauty and disposition," " beyond the 
mark for a younger brother." The die was cast; he 
penned a formal proposal to her father. It may be 
gathered that the lady rejected him; Greville certainly 
never married. Often and often he must have wished 
his poor and unfashionable Emma back again, when 
she was poor and unfashionable no longer: his amour 
propre had been hurt, and, till he became vice-cham- 
berlain in 1794, to Lady Hamilton's genuine pleasure, 1 
his fortunes drooped. 

Greville's tentatives were now at an end. At length 
he laid a plain outline before Sir William : — " If you 

1 Cf . her letter of congratulation (Sept. 16, 1794), Morrison 
MS. 246, in answer to his letter of August 18 announcing his 
good fortune and claiming the approbation of such friends as 
herself, as the best reward for one who plumes himself on 
friendship [Nelson Letters (1814), vol. i. p. 265]: "I should 
not flatter myself so far," he writes, " if I was not very 
sincerely interested in your happiness and ever affectionately 
yours." " I congratulate you," she answers, " with all my heart 
on your appointment. . . . You have well merited it; and all 
your friends must be happy at a change so favourable not only 
for your pecuniary circumstances, as for the honner of the 
situation. May you long enjoy it with every happiness that you 
deserve ! I speak from my heart. I don't know a better, hon- 
ester, or more amiable and worthy man than yourself; and it is 
a great deal for me to say this, for, whatever I think, I am 
not apt to pay compliments." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 65 

could form a plan by which you could have a trial, and 
could invite her and tell her that I ought not to leave 
England, and that I cannot afford to go on ; and state 
it as a kindness to me if she would accept your invita- 
tion, she would go with pleasure. She is to be six 
weeks at some bathing place ; and when you could write 
an answer to this, and inclose a letter to her, I could 
manage it ; and either by land, by the coach to Geneva, 
and from thence by Veturine forward her, or else by 
sea. I must add that I could not manage it so well 
later; after a month, and absent from me, she would 
consider the whole more calmly. If there was in the 
world a person she loved so well as yourself after me, 
I could not arrange with so much sang-froid; and I am 
sure I would not let her go to you, if any risque of the 
usual coquetry of the sex being likely to give uneasi- 
ness or appearance. ..." 

Sir William's " invitation " was to be perfectly in- 
nocent. She was to understand that her dear Greville's 
interest demanded a temporary separation ; that she and 
her mother would be honoured guests at the Naples 
Embassy; that she could improve the delightful change 
of scene and climate by training her musical gifts un- 
der the best masters, by studying the arts in their 
motherland, by learning languages amid a cosmopol- 
itan crowd ; that by October her fairy-prince would re- 
appear, and, like another Orpheus, bring back his Eu- 
rydice. And all this she was to be told, after absence, 
that makes the heart grow fonder, had inured her to 
separation,, softened her heart to self-sacrifice, and 
reconciled her to his lightest bidding — when, in short, 
it would be easiest to practise on devotion. About 
these machinations Emma was presumably left in the 
dark; their windings took place behind her back. Her 
all-wise, all-powerful and tender Greville could never 
consult but for her good, while his real unselfishness 



66 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

towards the child forbade any suspicion of his pur- 
pose. 

To Emma his prim platitudes were the loving elo- 
quence of Romeo. And for the last few months he 
had been always preaching up to her the spotless ex- 
ample of a certain " Mrs. Wells," refined and accom- 
plished, who, in Emma's own situation, had earned and 
kept both her own self-respect and that of more than 
one successive admirer; who had learned the art of re- 
taining the lover as friend, while she accepted his friend 
as lover. These innuendoes may well have puzzled 
her. Had she not realised a dream of constancy, and 
could that pass ? Had she not parted with the child she 
loved to please the man of her heart, and fasten his 
faith to hers? Yet all the time her dearest Greville 
could speak of " forwarding " her, just as if she were 
one of those crystals on which he doted. 

The fact was that, added to his embarrassments, his 
need for fortune with a wife, his wish at once to oblige 
Sir William and to preclude him from wedlock, his 
genuine desire — which must be granted — to provide 
for Emma's future, arose the feeling that Emma her- 
self was now too fond. It was hard to resign her; 
but, unless the choice was quickly made, it might be- 
come impossible ever to make it; and he might be en- 
tangled into a marriage which would hold him up to 
ridicule. 

But for once Greville was in haste. Sir William, 
always leisurely, took time before he began to broach 
a scheme of life which filled his nephew with alarm. 
Greville had never doubted that, should his will pre- 
vail with Emma as well as with his uncle, the latter 
would sequester her in one of his villas near Naples — 
some Italian Edgware Row. His mind recoiled from 
the awful thought that she might ever dispense the 
honours of the Embassy. The Ambassador, however, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 67 

could not agree. He had discerned powers in this 
singular woman passing Greville's vision, and the con- 
noisseur longed to call them forth and create a work of 
art. He lived, too, in a land where the convenances 
were not so rigid as in his own. Did not the bonne 
amie of a distinguished diplomat and Knight of Malta 
grace his Roman house and circle? 

Illness also made for postponement. When Greville 
returned to town after his summer outing, he found 
Emma, fresh from her sea-baths, " alarmed and dis- 
tressed " over her mother's " paralysis." " It was not 
so severe an attack," he told his uncle in November, 
" as I understood it to be when I informed you of it 
from Cornwall. . . . You may suppose that I did not 
increase Emma's uneasiness by any hint of the subject 
of our correspondence " ; " at any rate," he sighs, " it 
cannot take place, and she goes on so well, . . . and 
also improv'd in looks, that I own it is less agreeable 
to part; yet I have no other alternative but to marry, 
or remain a pauper ; I shall persist in my resolution not 
to lose an opportunity if I can find it, and do not think 
that my idea of sending her to Naples on such an event 
arises from my consulting my convenience only. I 
can assure you she would not have a scarcity of offers; 
she has refused great ones; but I am sure she would 
prefer a foreign country. ... I know that confidence 
and good usage will never be abused by her, and that 
nothing can make her giddy. I was only ten days 
with her when I was call'd away to be Mayor of War- 
wick; it was not kindly meant, but it will turn out 
well. I have been at the castle; I have put myself on 
good terms with my brother, and I think I shall keep 
him passive, if not interested for me in the bor- 
ough. . . ." 

It was not, therefore, Emma only who had grown 
" much more considerate and amiable." Lord War- 
Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 3 



68 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

wick must be enlisted if Greville was to " stand high 
with both parties," and urge them into competition for 
his services, as he gravely proceeded to inform his 
uncle. 

December brought Sir William's offer, and with it 
matured Greville's plans for the March ensuing. He 
would visit Scotland to retrench and profit by the lec- 
tures of Edinburgh dominies, while his " minerals " 
would remain his, thanks to Hamilton's generosity; 
Emma, she was assured, for a while only, would repair 
to Naples chaperoned by her mother, and the pleasant 
Gavin Hamilton, Romeward bound. All of them were 
to be couriered so far as Geneva by the Swiss Dejean; 
at Geneva Sir William's man Vincenzo — still his faith- 
ful servant in Nelson's day — would meet the party. 
For six months only Emma could cease her own course 
of incomparable lectures at Edgware Row; and a 
brief absence alone reconciled her to severance. A 
charming visit was to hasten a welcome re-union. 

". . . The absolute necessity," explains the casuist 
once more, " of reducing every expence to enable me 
to have enough to exist on, and to pay the interest of 
my debt without parting with my collection of min- 
erals, which is not yet in a state of arrangement which 
would set it off to its greatest advantage, occasion'd 
my telling Emma," with sudden artlessness, " that I 
should be obliged on business to absent myself for 
some months in Scotland. She naturally said that such 
a separation would be very like a total separation, for 
that she should be very miserable during my absence, 
and that she should neither profit by my conversation 
nor improve in any degree, that my absence would be 
more tolerable if she had you to comfort her, . . . 
as there was not a person in the world whom she could 
be happy with, if I was dead, but yourself, and that she 
certainly would profit of your kind offer, if I should 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 69 

die or slight her " — two equally improbable alternatives 
in Emma's purview. "... I told her that / should 
have no objection to her going to Naples for 6 or 8 
months, and that if she really wish'd it I would for- 
ward any letter she wrote. . . . That she would not 
fear being troublesome, as she would be perfectly satis- 
tied with the degree of attention you should from 
choice give her, and that she should be very happy in 
learning music, Italian, etc., while your avocations im- 
ploy'd you. ... I told her that she would be so happy 
that I should be cut out, and she said that if I did not 
come for her, or neglected her, she would certainly be 
grateful to you; but that neither interest nor affection 
should ever induce her to change, unless my interest 
or wish required it." 

It should be noted that the previous sentences 
about Emma's alternatives are contradicted by those 
which set her down as only to be weaned from 
Greville by becoming a willing sacrifice to his " in- 
terest." 

Enclosed was Emma's own missive. " Embold- 
ened " by Sir William's kindness when he was in Eng- 
land, she recapitulated the circumstances. Greville, 
" whom you know I love tenderly," is obliged to go 
for four or five months in the " sumer " " to places 
that I cannot with propriety attend him to " — here 
surely it is Greville who dictates? She has too great 
a " regard for him to hinder him from pursuing those 
plans which," she thinks, " it is right for him to fol- 
low." As Hamilton was so good as to encourage her, 
she " will speak her mind." Firstly, she would be 
glad " to be a little more improv'd," and Greville 
" out of kindness " had offered to dispense with her for 
the few months at the close of which he would come to 
" fetch " her home, and stay a while there when he 
comes, " which I know you will be glad to see him." 



70 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

He therefore proposed the ist of March for his own 
departure northward and hers to the south. She 
would be " flattered " if Hamilton will " allot " her an 
apartment in " his house," " and lett Greville occupye 
those appartments when he comes ; you know that must 
be ; but as your house is very large, and you must, from 
the nature of your office, have business to transact and 
visiters to see,"— here Greville dictates again — " I shall 
always keep my own room when you are better en- 
gaged, and at other times I hope to have the pleasure 
of your company and conversation, which will be more 
agreable to me than anything in Italy. As I have 
given you an example of sincerity, I hope you will be 
equaly candid and sincere in a speedy answer. ... I 
shall be perfectly happy in any arrangements you will 
make, as I have full confidence in your kindness and 
attention to me. ..." 

The must in this letter leaves no doubt that the per- 
manence of separation never crossed her mind. 
Greville's crystals, however, required a sacrifice, which 
for him she prided herself on making. 

On April 26 — her birthday — she duly arrived at the 
Palazzo Sessa. 1 But she at once felt wretched away 
from the man she loved, and her sole comfort lay in for- 
warding his interest. " It was my birthday, and I was 
very low spirited. Oh God ! that day that you used 
to smile on me and stay at home, and be kind to me — 
that that day I shou'd be at such a distance from you ! 
But my comfort is that I rely upon your promise, and 
September or October I shall see you ! But I am quite 
unhappy at not hearing from you — no letter for me 
yet, . . . but I must wait with patience." " I 
dreaded," she continued later, " setting down to write, 
for I try to appear as chearful before Sir William as 
I could, and I am sure to cry the moment I think of 
1 Then the Embassy. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 71 

you. 1 For I feel more and more unhappy at being 
separated from you, and if my fatal ruin depends on 
seeing you, I will and must at the end of the sumer. 
For to live without you is impossible. I love you to 
that degree that at this time there is not a hardship 
upon hearth either of poverty, cold, death, or even 
to walk barefooted to Scotland to see you, but what I 
wou'd undergo. Therefore my dear, dear Greville, 
if you do love me, for my sake, try all you can to 
come hear as soon as possible. You have a true friend 
in Sir William, and he will be happy to see you, and 
do all he can to make you happy ; and for me I will be 
everything you can wish for. I find it is not either 
a fine horse, or a fine coach, or a pack of servants, or 
plays or operas, can make [me] happy. It is you 
that [h]as it in your power either to make me very 
happy or very miserable. I respect Sir William, I 
have a great regard for him, as the uncle and friend 
of you, and he loves me, Greville. But he can never 
be anything nearer to me than your uncle and my 
sincere friend. He never can be my lover. You do 
not know how good Sir William is to me. He is do- 
ing everything he can to make me happy. . . ." 

Her inmost soul speaks in these sentences. They 
ring true, and are without question outpourings of the 
heart on paper bedewed with tears. Sir William was 
indeed kind. He wanted to wean her from one who 
could thus have treated her. He was never out of her 
sight. He gazed on her; he sighed; he praised her 

1 Sir William had divined this probability the day before she 
arrived : — " However, I will do as well as I can and hobble in 
and out of this pleasant scrape as decently as I can. You may 
be assured I will comfort her for the loss of you as well as I 
am able, but I know, from the small specimens during your 
absence from London, that I shall have at times many tears to 
wipe from those charming eyes." — Morrison MS. 149, April 25, 
1786. 



72 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

every movement. He gave her presents and showed 
her all that romantic antiquity which he loved, under- 
stood, and explained so well. She had gazed on Posi- 
lippo, and was to revel in the villino at Caserta and 
the Posilippo villa, which soon bore her name. But 
carriage and liveries, " like those of Mrs. Darner," 
who had just left, a private boat, and baths under 
summer skies in summer seas — all these availed nothing 
with Greville absent. Her apartment was of four 
rooms fronting that enchanted bay. The Ambassa- 
dor's friends dined with her, and she sang for them : — 
" Yes, last night we had a little concert. But then I 
was so low, for I wanted you to partake of our amuse- 
ment. Sir Thomas Rumbold is here with [h]is son 
who is dying of a decline, . . . and poor young man ! 
he cannot walk from the bed to the chair; and Lady 
Rumbold, like a tender-hearted wretch, is gone to 
Rome, to pass her time there with the English, and 
[h]as took the coach and all the English servants with 
her, and left poor Sir Thomas, with [h]is heart broken, 
waiting on [h]is sick son. You can't think what a 
worthy man he is. He dined with ous, and likes me 
very much, and every day [h]as brought [h]is car- 
riage or phaeton . . . and carries me and mother 
and Sir William out." None the less her heart stays 
with Greville. She is always helping him with Sir 
William, whose good will (in both senses of that word) 
makes her " very happy for his sake. . . . But 
Greville, my dear Greville, wright some comfort to 
me." " Only remember your promise of October." 
This delusive October must have hung over Greville's 
head like a sword of Damocles, or Caesar's inevitable 
Ides of March. 

The sensation of Emma's first appearance in the kal- 
eidoscope of Naples, with its King of the Lazzaroni 
and Queen of the Illuminati, together with the con- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 73 

junctures of affairs and men first witnessed by her, 
will find place in the next chapter. It was not many- 
months before she was to exclaim to Greville,, " You 
do not know what power I have hear "; before Acton, 
the Premier, was to rally Sir William on " a worthy 
and charming- young lady." But now and here the 
climax of her emotions, when she first fully realised 
Greville's breach of faith and his real purpose in ex- 
iling her, must be reached without interruption. Even 
on the first of May, when his uncle told her in reply 
to her solicitude for Greville's welfare, that she might 
command anything from one who loved them both so 
dearly, " I have had a conversation this morning," she 
wrote, " with Sir William that has made me mad. 
He speaks — no, I do not know what to make of it." 

Three months went by, and still no letter came, ex- 
cept one to tell her how grateful was the nephew for 
the uncle's care ; and still Sir William looked and lan- 
guished. The truth began to dawn upon her, but even 
now she dare not face, and would not believe it. At the 
close of July, when Naples drowses and melts in dreamy 
haze, she made her last and piteous, though spirited, 
appeal. " I am now onely writing to beg of you for 
God's sake to send me one letter, if it is onely a fare- 
well. Sure I have deserved this for the sake of the 
love you once had for me. . . . Don't despise me. I 
have not used you ill in any one thing. I have been 
from you going of six months, and you have wrote 
one letter to me, enstead of which I have sent fourteen 
to you. So pray let me beg of you, my much loved 
Greville, only one line from your dear, dear hands. 
You don't know how thankful I shall be for it. For 
if you knew the misery I feel, oh! your heart wou'd 
not be intirely shut up against me ; for I love you with 
the truest affection. Don't let any body sett you 
against me. Some of your friends — your foes per- 



74 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

haps, I don't know what to stile them — have long wisht 
me ill. But, Greville, you never will meet with any- 
body that has a truer affection for you than I have, 
and I onely wish it was in my power to shew you what 
I cou'd do for you. As soon as I know your deter- 
mination, I shall take my own measures. If I don't 
hear from you, and that you are coming according to 
promise, I shall be in England at Cristmass at farthest. 
Don't be unhappy at that, I will see you once more for 
the last time. I find life is insupportable without you. 
Oh ! my heart is intirely broke. Then for God's sake, 
my ever dear Greville, do write to me some comfort. 
I don't know what to do. I am now in that state, I 
am incapable of anything. I have a language-master, 
a singing-master, musick, etc., but what is it for? If 
it was to amuse you, I shou'd be happy. But, Greville, 
what will it avail me? I am poor, helpless, and for- 
lorn. I have lived with you 5 years, and you have 
sent me to a strange place, and no one prospect but 
thinking you was coming to me. Instead of which I 
was told. . . . No, I respect him, but no, never. . . . 
What is to become of me ? But excuse me, my heart is 
ful. I tel you give me one guiney a week for every- 
thing, and live with me, and I will be contented. 
But no more. I will trust to Providence, and wherever 
you go, God bless you, and preserve you, and may you 
allways be happy! But write to Sir William. What 
[h]as he done to affront you? " 1 

She awaited Greville's orders. Sir William had 
commissioned still another portrait of her from Rom- 
ney; " Angelaca " was about to paint her; she was 
" so remarkably fair " that " everybody " said she 
" put on red and white " ; Lord Hervey was her slave ; 
a foreign prince was in her train each evening; the 
king was " sighing " for her. It was Greville's orders 
1 Morrison MS. 152, July 22, 1786. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 75 

for which she waited. She had just visited Pompeii 
and viewed the wrecks of love and bloom and life un- 
earthed by alien hands. Was here no moral for this 
distraught and heaving bosom? And there that awful 
mountain lowered and threatened ruin every day. The 
Maltese Minister's house hard by had been struck by 
lightning. Like lurid Nature, Emma too was roused 
to fury, though, a microcosm of it also, she smiled 
between the outbursts. What could she do but 
wait ? 

Twelve days more; the order comes — " Oblige Sir 
William." Her passion blazes up, indignant: 
". . . Nothing can express my rage. Greville, to ad- 
vise me ! — you that used to envy my smiles ! Now 
with cool indifference to advise me! . . . Oh! that is 
the worst of all. But I will not, no, I will not rage. 
If I was with you I wou'd murder you and myself 
boath. I will leave of [f] and try to get more strength, 
for I am now very ill with a cold. ... I won't look 
back to what I wrote . . . Nothing shall ever do for 
me but going home to you. If that is not to be, I will 
except of nothing. I will go to London, their go into 
every excess of vice till I dye, a miserable, broken- 
hearted wretch, and leave my fate as a warning to 
young whomen never to be two good; for now you 
have made me love you, you made me good, you 
have abbandoned me ; and some violent end shall finish 
our connexion, if it is to finish. But oh ! Greville, you 
cannot, you must not give me up. You have not 
the heart to do it. You love me I am sure ; and I am 
willing to do everything in my power, and what will 
you have more? And I only say this is the last time 
I will either beg or pray, do as you like." — " I always 
knew, I had a foreboding since first I began to love 
you, that I was not destined to be happy; for their is 
not a King or Prince on hearth that cou'd make me 



?6 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

happy without you." — " Little Lord Brooke is dead. 
Poor little boy, how I envy him his happiness." 

She had been degraded in her own eyes, and by the 
lover whom she had heroised. Was this, then, the re- 
ward of modesty regained; of love returned, of strenu- 
ous effort, of hopes for her child, and a home purified ? 
Her idol lay prone, dashed from its pedestal, with feet 
of clay. And yet this did not harden her. Though 
she could not trust, she still believed in him as in some 
higher power who chastens those he loves. Her 
paroxysms passed to return again : — ". . . It is 
enough, I have paper that Greville wrote on. He 
[h]as folded it up. He wet the wafer. How I envy 
thee the place of Emma's lips, that would give worlds, 
had she them, to kiss those lips ! . . . I onely wish 
that a wafer was my onely rival. But I submit to 
what God and Greville pleases." Even now she held 
him to his word. " I have such a headache with my 
cold, I don't know what to do. ... I can't lett a 
week go without telling you how happy I am at hear- 
ing from you. Pray, write as often as you can. // 
you come, we shall all go home together. . . . Pray 
write to me, and don't write in the stile of a freind, 
but a lover. For I won't hear a word of freind. Sir 
William is ever freind. But we are lovers. I am 
glad you have sent me a blue hat and gloves. . . ." 

For many years she cherished Greville's friendship. 
She wrote to him perpetually after the autumn of this 
year saw Sir William win her heart as well as will by 
his tenderness, and by her thought of advancing the 
ingrate nephew himself. Never did she lose sight of 
Greville's interests during those fourteen future years 
at Naples. She lived to thank Greville for having 
made Sir William known to her, to be proud of her 
achievements as his eleve. 

But at the same time in these few months a larger 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 77 

horizon was already opening. She had looked on a 
bigger world, and ambition was awakening within 
her. She had seen royalty and statesmen, and she 
began to feel that she might play a larger part. Under 
Greville's yoke she had been ready to pinch and slave ; 
with Sir William she would rule. " Pray write," she 
concludes one of her Greville letters, " for nothing 
will make me so angry, and it is not to your intrest 
to disoblidge me, for you don't know," she adds with 
point, " the power I have hear. ... If you affront 
me, / will make him marry me. God bless you for 
ever." x 

And amid all her tumult of disillusionment, of un- 
certainty, of bewilderment in the new influence she 
was visibly wielding over new surroundings, she re- 
mained the more mindful of those oldest friends who 
had believed her good, and enabled her to feel good 
herself. Sir William, wishful to retain for her the 
outside comforts of virtue, hastened to gratify her by 
inviting Romney and Hayley to Naples. The disap- 
pointment caused by Romney's inability to comply with 
a request dear to him 2 threw her back on herself and 
made her feel lonelier than ever; her mother was her 
great consolation. 

And what was Greville's attitude? These Emma- 
letters would have been tumbled into his waste-paper 
basket with the fourteen others that remain, had he 
not returned them to Hamilton with the subjoined and 
private comment : — " L'oubli dc I'inclus est volant, 
Hxez-le: si on admet le ton de la vertu sans la verite, 

1 Morrison MS. 153, August 1, 1786. Some of the sentences 
are quoted in the order of feeling and not of sequence. Emma 
seldom wrote long letters in a single day. 

2 Romney had been very ill. In his answer (August, 1786) he 
hopes "in a weke or to, to be upon my pins (I cannot well call 
them legs), as you know at best they are very poor ones." — Cf. 
Ward and Roberts's Romney, vol. i. p. 67. 



78 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

on est la dupe, et je place naturellement tout stir le 
pied vrai, comme j'ai toujours fait, et je constate I'etat 
actuel sans me reporter a vous." One must not be 
duped by the tone without the truth of virtue! The 
" self-respect," then, instilled by him, was never de- 
signed to raise her straying soul; it was a makeshift 
contrived to steady her erring steps — a mere bridge 
between goodness and its opposite, which he would not 
let her cross; though neither would he let her throw 
herself over it into the troubled and muddy depths 
below : it was a bridge built for his own retreat. Grev- 
ille recked of no " truth " but hard " facts," which 
he looked unblushingly in the face, nor did his essence 
harbour one flash or spark of idealism. And still he 
purposed her welfare, as he understood it; he had 
sought to kill three birds with one stone. Hamilton, 
for all his faults, was never a sophist of such com- 
promise. For Emma he purposed a state of life above 
its semblance, and a strength beyond its frail supports ; 
already he desired that she would consent to be, in all 
but name, his wife. Greville, certain of her good na- 
ture, had dreaded permanence; Hamilton, if all went 
smoothly, meant it. Yet Greville exacted friendship 
without affection. His French postscript was designed 
to escape Emma's comprehension, though a month or 
so later it could not have succeeded in doing so. But 
the letter itself contained some paragraphs which he 
probably intended her to study : — 

"... I shall hope to manage to all our satisfac- 
tion, for I so long foresaw that a moment of separa- 
tion must arrive, that I never kept the connexion, but 
on the footing of perfect liberty to her. Its com- 
mencement was not of my seeking, and hitherto it has 
contributed to her happiness. She knows and reflects 
often on the circumstances which she cannot forget, 
and in her heart she cannot reproach me of having acted 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 79 

otherwise than a kind and attentive friend. But you 
have now rendered it possible for her to be respected 
and comfortable, and if she has not talked herself out 
of the true view of her situation she will retain the pro- 
tection and affection of us both. For after all, con- 
sider what a charming creature she would have been 
if she had been blessed with the advantages of an 
early education, and had not been spoilt by the in- 
dulgence of every caprice. I never was irritated by 
her momentary passions, for it is a good heart which 
will not part with a friend in anger ; and yet it is true 
that when her pride is hurt by neglect or anxiety for 
the future, the frequent repition of her passion bal- 
lances the beauty of the smiles. If a person knew her 
and could live for life with her, by an economy of at- 
tention, that is by constantly renewing very little atten- 
tions, she would be happy and good temper'd, for she 
has not a grain of avarice or self-interest'. . . . Know- 
ing all this, infinite have been my pains to make her re- 
spect herself, and act fairly, and I had always proposed 
to continue her friend, altho' the connexion ceased. I 
had proposed to make her accept and manage your kind 
provision, 1 and she would easily have adopted that 
plan; it was acting the part of good woman, and to 
offer to put her regard to any test, and to shozv that 
she contributed to MY happiness, by accepting the 
provision ... it would not have hurt her pride, and 
would have been a line of heroicks more natural, be- 
cause it arose out of the real situation, than any which 
by conversation she might persuade herself suited her 
to act. Do not understand the word " act " other 
than I mean it. We all [act] well when we suit our 
actions to the real situation, and conduct them by truth 
and good intention. We act capriciously and incon- 

1 Sir William offered to settle £100 annually, and Greville a 
like sum, on her. Romney was to have been a trustee. 



80 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

veniently to others when our actions are founded on 
an imaginary plan which does not place the persons in- 
volved in the scene in their real situations. ... If 
Mrs. Wells had quarrell'd with Admiral Keppell, she 
would never have been respected as she now is. . . . If 
she will put me on the footing of a friend . . . she 
will write to me fairly on her plans, she will tell me 
her thoughts, and her future shall be my serious con- 
cern. . . . She has conduct and discernment, and I 
have always said that such a woman, if she controul 
her passions, might rule the roost, and chuse her sta- 
tion." 

Thus vEneas-Greville, of Dido-Emma, to his trusty 
Achates. Surely a self -revealing document of sense 
and blindness, of truth and falsehood, one, moreover, 
did space allow, well worth longer excerpts. He ex- 
cused his action in his own eyes even more elaborately, 
over and over again. He would conscientiously fulfil 
his duty to her and hers, if only she would accept his 
view of her own duty towards him : his tone admitted 
of few obligations beyond mutual interest. He never 
reproached either her or himself: he thought himself 
firm, not cruel ; he remained her good friend and well- 
wisher, her former rescuer, a father to her child. 
" Heroicks " were out of place and out of taste. He 
again held up to her proud imitation the prime pattern 
of " Mrs. Wells." He was even willing that she 
should return home, if so she chose; but his terms 
were irrevocably fixed, and it was useless for her to 
hystericise against adamant. 

But he did not reckon with the latent possibilities of 
her being. The sequel was to prove not " what 
Greville," but what " God pleases." 



CHAPTER IV 

APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 
I787-I79I 

WHAT was the new prospect on which Emma's 
eyes first rested in March, 1786? Goethe 
has described it. A fruitful land, a free, 
blue sea, the scented islands, and the smoking moun- 
tain. A population of vegetarian craftsmen busy to 
enjoy with hand-to-mouth labour. A people holding 
their teeming soil under a lease on sufferance from 
earthquake and volcano. An inflammable mob, whose 
king lost six thousand subjects annually by assassina- 
tion, and whose brawls and battles of vendetta would 
last three hours at a time. An upper class of feudal 
barons proud and ignorant. A lower class of half- 
beggars, at once lazy, brave, and insolent, who, if 
they misliked the face of a foreign inquirer, would 
stare in silence and turn away. A middle class of 
literati despising those above and below them. A 
race of tillers and of fishermen alternating between 
pious superstition and reckless revel, midway, as it 
were, between God and Satan. The bakers celebrat- 
ing their patron, Saint Joseph ; the priests their child- 
like "saint-humorous," San Filippo Neri; high and 
low alike, their civic patrons, Saints Anthony and Janu- 
arius, whose liquefying blood each January propitiated 
Vesuvius. Preaching Friars, dreaming Friars; sing- 
ing, sceptical, enjoying- Abbes. A country luxuriant 

81 



82 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

not only with southern growths, but garlanded 
even in February by banks of wild violets and tan- 
gles of wild heliotrope and sweet-peas. A spirit of 
Nature, turning dread to beauty, and beauty into 
dread. 

She sits, her head leaned against her hand, and 
gazes through the open casement on a scene bathed in 
southern sun and crystal air — the pure air, the large 
glow, the light soil that made Neapolis the pride of 
Magna Graecia. Her room — it is Goethe himself 
who describes it — " furnished in the English taste," 
is " most delightful " ; the " outlook from its corner 
window, unique." Below, the bay; in full view, 
Capri; on the right, Posilippo; nearer the highroad, 
Villa Reale, the royal palace; on the left an ancient 
Jesuit cloister, which the queen had dedicated to learn- 
ing; hard by on either side, the twin strongholds of 
Uovo and Nuovo, and the busy, noisy Molo, overhung 
by the fortress of San Elmo on the frowning crag; 
further on, the curving coast from Sorrento to Cape 
Minerva. And all this varied vista, from the centre of 
a densely thronged and clattering city. 

The whirlwind of passion sank, and gradually 
yielded to calm, as Greville had predicted. " Every 
woman," commented this astute observer, resenting 
the mention of his name at Naples, " either feels or 
acts a part " ; and change of dramatis persona was 
necessary, he added, " to make Emma happy " and 
himself " free." But his careful prescription of the 
immaculate " Mrs. Wells " only partially succeeded. 
True, the elderly friend was soon to become the at- 
tached lover, and the prudential lover a forgiven friend ; 
but he ceased henceforward to be " guide " or " phi- 
losopher," and gradually faded into a minor actor in 
the drama, though never into a supernumerary. She 
felt, as she told Sir William, forlorn; her trust had 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 83 

been betrayed and rudely shaken. What she longed 
for was a friend, and she could never simulate what 
she did not feel. 1 His gentle respect, his chivalry, con- 
trasting with Greville's cynical taskmastership, his per- 
suasive endearments, eventually won the day; and by 
the close of the year Emma's heart assented to his suit. 
Her eyes had been opened. To him she " owed every- 
thing." He was to her " every kind name in one." 
" I believe," she told him early in 1787, " it is right 
I shou'd be seperated from you sometimes, to make 
me know myself, for I don't know till you are absent, 
how dear you are to me " ; she implores one little line 
just that she " may kiss " his " name." Sir William 
at fifty-six retained that art of pleasing which he never 
lost; and she was always pleased to be petted and 
shielded. Already by the opening of 1788 she had 
come to master the language and the society of Naples. 
Disobedient to his nephew, and his niece Mrs. Dickin- 
son, who remonstrated naturally but in vain, Sir Will- 
iam insisted on her doing the honours, which she aston- 
ished him by managing, as he thought, to perfection. 
Every moment spared from visits abroad or her hos- 
pitalities in the Palazzo Sessa was filled by strenuous 
study at home, or in the adjoining Convent of Santa 
Romita. Her captivating charm, her quick tact, her 
impulsive friendliness, her entertaining humour, her 
natural taste for art, which, together with her " kind- 
ness and intelligence," had already been acknowledged 
by Romney as a source of inspiration ; her unique " At- 
titudes," her voice which, under Galluci's tuition, she 
was now beginning " to command," even her free and 
easy manners when contrasted with those of the 

1 Cf. her very striking letter to Hamilton, Morrison MS. 163: 
"... Do you call me your dear friend? . . . Oh, if I cou'd 
express myself! If I had words to thank you, that I may not 
thus be choked with meanings, for which I can find no ut- 
terance ! " 



84 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Neapolitan noblesse, all seemed miracles, broke down 
the easy barriers of susceptible southerners, and gained 
her hosts of " sensible admirers." So early as Febru- 
ary, 1787, Sir William reported to his nephew: 
". . . Our dear Em. goes on now quite as I cou'd 
wish, and is universally beloved " — a phrase which 
Emma herself repeated ten months later to her first 
mentor, with the proud consciousness of shining at a 
distance before him. " She is wonderful," added 
Hamilton, " considering her youth and beauty, and I 
flatter myself that E. and her Mother are happy to be 
with me, so that I see my every wish fulfilled." By 
the August of this year, when she first wrote Italian, 
she saw " good company," she delighted the whole 
diplomatic circle; Sir William was indissociable ; she 
used the familiar " we " — " our house at Caserta is 
fitted up," while Sir William followed suit. The very 
servants styled her " Eccellenza." Her attached Am- 
bassador " is distractedly in love " ; " he deserves it, 
and indeed I love him dearly." There was not a grain 
in her of inconstancy. " He is so kind, so good and 
tender to me," she wrote as Emma Hart, in an un- 
published letter, " that I love him so much that I have 
not a warm look left for the Neapolitans." His even- 
ings, he wrote, were sweet with song and admiring 
guests, while her own society rendered them a " com- 
fort." Inclination went on steadily ripening, until it 
settled within three years into deep mutual fondness. 
He fitted up for her a new boudoir in the Naples house 
with its round mirrors, as Miss Knight has recorded, 
covering the entire side of the wall opposite the semi- 
circular window, and reflecting the moonlit bay with 
its glimmering boats, the glass tanks with their marine 
treasures of " sea-oranges " and the like. Within a year 
Hamilton tells Greville that she asks him " Do you 
love me, aye, but as much as your new apartment ? "— * 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 85 

both here and at Caserta. He did his best to " form " 
her, and in the course of time she was able to share his 
botanical studies, which they pursued not as " pedan- 
tical prigs " to air learning, but with zeal and pleasure 
in the early mornings and fresh air of the " English " 
gardens. Her aptitude and adaptiveness worked 
wonders. Within a year she could take an intelligent 
interest in the virtuoso's new volume, if we may judge 
from Sir J. Banks, who some years later again bade 
his old crony tell her that he hoped she admired Penel- 
ope in his work on Urns. She aided his volcanic ob- 
servations; Sir William laughed, and said she would 
rival him with the mountain now. Both had already 
stayed with, and she had enchanted, the Duke and 
Duchess of St. Maitre at Sorrento, the musical 
Countess of Mahoney at Ischia ; cries of " Una donna 
vara," " bellissima creatura," were on every mouth. 
The Duke of Gloucester begged Hamilton to favour 
him with her acquaintance. The Olympian Goethe 
himself beheld and marvelled. Her unpretending 
naivete won her adherents at every step. " All the fe- 
male nobility, with the queen at their head," were 
" distantly civil " to her already; none rude to Emma 
were allowed within the precincts. Meddlers or cen- 
sors were sent roundly to the right-about, and in- 
formed that she was the sweetest, the best, the clev- 
erest creature in the world. When he returned from 
his periodical royal wild-boar chases, it was Emma 
again who brewed his punch and petted him. Now 
and again there peeps out also that half voluptuous 
tinge in her wifeliness which never wholly deserted her. 
She had been Greville's devoted slave; Sir William was 
already hers. Her monitor had repulsed her free 
sacrifice and urged it for his own advantage towards 
his uncle; but her worshipper had now fanned not so 
much the flame, perhaps, as the incense of her un- 



86 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

feigned 1 attachment. The English dined with her 
while Sir William was away shooting with the king. 
She trilled Handel and Paisiello, learned French, 
Italian, music, dancing, design, and history. Hamil- 
ton, himself musical, used later on to accompany her 
voice — of which he was a good judge — on the viola. 
She laughed at the foibles and follies of the court; 
she retailed to him the gossip of the hour. She en- 
tered into his routine and protected his interests; she 
prevented him from being pestered or plundered. Only 
a few years, and she was dictating etiquette even to an 
English nobleman. 

It was a triumphal progress which took the town by 
storm; her beauty swept men off their feet. The 
transformations of these eighteen months, which lifted 
her out of her cramped nook at Paddington into a 
wide arena, read like a dream, or one of those Arabian 
fairy-tales where peasants turn princes in an hour. 
Nor is the least surprise, among many, the thought 
that these dissolving views present themselves as ad- 
ventures of admired virtue, and not as unsanctioned 
escapades. At Naples the worst of her past seemed 
buried, and she could be born again. Her accent, her 
vulgarisms mattered little; she spoke to new friends 
in a new language. The " lovely woman " who had 
" stooped to folly, and learned too late that men be- 
tray," seems rather to have " stooped to conquer " by 
the approved methods of the same Goldsmith's heroine. 

The scene of her debut is that of Opera, all moon- 
light, flutter, music, and masquerade. Escaping in 



1 Ci. Morrison MS. 164, 1787 (Emma to Sir William): ". . . My 
comforter in distress. Then why shall I not love you. Endead I 
must and ought whilst life is left in me or reason to think on you. 
. . . My heart and eyes fill. ... I owe everything to you, and 
shall ever with gratitude remember it. . . ." And d. ibid. 172, 
1788: "... I love Sir William, for he renounces all for me." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 87 

the cool of the evening from her chambers, thronged 
by artists, wax-modellers, and intaglio-cutters, she at- 
tends Sir William's evening saunter in the royal gar- 
dens at the fashionable hour. Her complexion so 
much resembles apple-blossom, that beholders question 
it, although she neither paints nor powders. Dapper 
Prince Dietrichstein from Vienna (" Draydrixton " 
in her parlance as in Acton's) attends her as " cavalier e 
servente," whispering to her in broken English that 
she is a " diamond of the first water." Two more 
princes and " two or three nobles " follow at her heels. 
She wears a loose muslin gown, the sleeves tied in 
folds with blue ribbon and trimmed with lace, a blue 
sash and the big blue hat which Greville has sent her 
as peace-offering. Beyond them stand the king, the 
queen, the minister Acton, and a brilliant retinue. 
That queen, careworn but beautiful, who already 
" likes her much," has begged the Austrian beau to 
walk near her that she may get a glimpse of his fair 
companion, the English girl, who is a " modern an- 
tique." " But Greville," writes Emma, " the king 
[h]as eyes, he [h]as a heart, and I have made an 
impression on it. But I told the prince, Hamilton 
is my friend, and she belongs to his nephew, for all 
our friends know it." 1 Only last Sunday that " Roi 
d'Yvetot " had dined at Posilippo, mooring his boat by 
the casements of Hamilton's country casino for a 
nearer view. This garden-house is already named the 
" Villa Emma," and there for Emma a new " music- 
room " is building. Emma and the Ambassador had 
been entertaining a " diplomatick party." They issue 
forth beneath the moon to their private boat. At 
once the monarch places his " boat of musick " next 
to theirs. His band of " French Horns " strikes up 
a serenade for the queen of hearts. The king re- 
1 Morrison MS. 152, July 22, 1786. 



88 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

moves his hat, sits with it on his knees, and " when go- 
ing to land," bows and says, " it was a sin he could 
not speak English." She has him in her train every 
evening at San Carlo, villa, or promenade; she is the 
cynosure of each day, and the toast of every night. 

Or, again, she entertains informally at Sorrento, all 
orange-blossom in February, after an afternoon of 
rambling donkey-rides near flaming Vesuvius, and 
visits to grandees in villeggiatura. In one room sits 
Sir William's orchestra ; in the other she receives their 
guests. At last her turn comes round to sing; she 
chooses " Luce Bella," in which the Banti makes such 
a furore at San Carlo, that famous Banti who had 
already marvelled at the tone and compass of her 
voice, when in fear and trembling she had been in- 
duced to follow her. As she ceases, there is a ten 
minutes' round of applause, a hubbub of " Bravas " 
and " Ancoras." And then she performs in " buffo " 
— " that one " (and Greville knew it) " with a Tam- 
bourin, in the character of a young girl with a raire- 
shew [raree-show], the pretiest thing you ever heard." 
He must concede her triumph, the hard, unruffled man ! 
She turns the heads of the Sorrentines; she leaves 
" some dying, some crying, and some in despair. Mind 
you, this was all nobility, as proud as the devil"; but 
■ — and here brags the people's daughter — " we humbled 
them"; "but what astonished them was that I shou'd 
speak such good Italian. For I paid them, I spared 
non[e] of them, tho' I was civil and oblidging. One 
asked me if I left a love at Naples, that I left them so 
soon. I pulled my lip at him, to say, ' I pray, do you 
take me for an Italian? . . . Look, sir, I am Eng- 
lish. I have one Cavaliere servente, and have brought 
him with me,' pointing to Sir William." Hart, the 
English musician, wept to hear her sing an air by Han- 
del, pronouncing that in her the tragic and comic 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 89 

Muses were so happily blended that Garrick would 
have been enraptured. These were the very qualities 
that even thus early distinguished her self-taught " At- 
titudes," by common consent of all beholders a mar- 
vel of artistic expression and refinement. Goethe, at 
this moment in Naples, and certainly no biassed critic, 
was an eye-witness. He had been introduced by his 
friends, the German artists, 1 to the Maecenas Ambas- 
sador and " his Emma." He thus records his im- 
pressions : — 

". . . The Chevalier Hamilton, so long resident 
here as English Ambassador, so long, too, connoisseur 
and student of Art and Nature, has found their coun- 
terpart and acme with exquisite delight in a lovely 
girl — English, and some twenty years of age. She is 
exceedingly beautiful and finely built. She wears a 
Greek garb becoming her to perfection. She then 
merely loosens her locks, takes a pair of shawls, and 
effects changes of postures, moods, gestures, mien, and 
appearance that make one really feel as if one were in 
some dream. Here is visible complete, and bodied 
forth in movements of surprising variety, all that so 
many artists have sought in vain to fix and render. 
Successively standing, kneeling, seated, reclining, 
grave, sad, sportive, teasing, abandoned, penitent, 
alluring, threatening, agonised. One follows the 
other, and grows out of it. She knows how to choose 
and shift the simple folds of her single kerchief for 
every expression, and to adjust it into a hundred kinds 
of headgear. Her elderly knight holds the torches for 
her performance, and is absorbed in his soul's desire. 
In her he finds the charm of all antiques, the fair 
profiles on Sicilian coins, the Apollo Belvedere him- 
self. . . . We have already rejoiced in the spectacle 

*Tischbein, Hackert, and Andreas, who, with others, were at 
this time painting in Naples. 



9 o EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

two evenings. Early to-morrow Tischbein paints 
her." * 

There are less familiar references also in the Italian 
Journey. On Goethe's return from Sicily in May, the 
author of Werther, occupied with the art, the peasant 
life, and the geology of the neighbourhood, renewed 
his acquaintance with the pair and acknowledges their 
kindnesses. He dined with them again. Sir William 
favoured him with a view of his excavated treasures 
in the odd " vault," where statues and sarcophagi, 
bronze candelabra and busts, lay disarranged and 
jumbled. Among them Goethe noticed an upright, 
open chest " rimmed exquisitely with gold, and large 
enough to contain a life-size figure in its dark, inner 
background." Sir William . explained how Emma, 
attired in bright Pompeiian costume, had stood mo- 
tionless inside it with an effect in the half-light even 
more striking than her grace as " moving statue." 
Goethe, ever curious, was now keenly interested in 
studying the superstitions of the Neapolitan peasantry, 
including the realistic shows of manger and Magi with 
which they celebrated Christmas-tide. In these, living 
images were intermixed with coloured casts of clay. 
And he hazards the remark — while deprecating it from 
the lips of a contented guest — that perhaps " Miss 
Harte " was at root not more than such a living image 
— a tableau vivant. Perchance, he muses, the main 
lack of his " fair hostess " is "geist " or soulfulness of 
mind. Her dumb shows, he adds, were naturally un- 
voiced, and voice alone expresses spirit. Even her 
admired singing he then thought deficient in " ful- 
ness." Had Goethe, however, known her whole na- 
ture, he would have owned that if she were " geistlos " 
in the highest sense, she was never dull, and was to 
prove the reverse of soulless; while he, of all men, 
1 Goethe, Italienische Reise, March 16, 1787. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 91 

would have admired not only her enthusiasm but her 
more practical qualities. Did he, perhaps, in after 
years recall this mute and lovely vision when her name, 
for good or ill, had entered history? At any rate, 
though neither Hamilton nor Emma has noticed him in 
existing letters, they both endure on Goethe's pages; 
and to have impressed Goethe was even then no easy 
task. That the creator of Iphigenia and Tasso was 
deeply impressed is proved by another and better 
known passage, where after praising Hamilton as " a 
man of universal taste, who has roamed through all 
the realms of creation," and has " made a beautiful 
existence which he enjoys in the evening of life," he 
adds that Emma is " a masterpiece of the Arch- 
Artist." 

To resume our dissolving views : a priest begs her 
picture on a box, which he clasps to his bosom. A 
countess weeps when she departs. The Russian 
empress hears her fame, and orders her portrait. 
Commodore Melville gives a dinner to thirty on board 
his Dutch frigate in her honour, and seats her at the 
head as " mistress of the feast." She is robed " all in 
virgin white," her hair " in ringlets reaching almost 
to her heels," so long, that Sir William says she 
" look't and moved amongst it." She has soon learned 
by rote the little ways of the big world, and whispers 
to him that it is gala night at San Carlo, and de 
rigueur to reach their box before the royal party en- 
tered their neighbouring one. The guns salute; the 
pinnace starts amid laughter, song, and roses, while 
off she speeds to semi-royal triumphs — " as tho' I 
was a queen." Serena's wholesome lesson is being 
half forgotten. 

Once more, Vesuvius " looks beautiful," with its 
lava-streams descending far as Portici. She climbs 
the peak of fire at midnight — five miles of flame; the 



92 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

peasants deem the mountain " burst." The climbers 
seek the shelter of the Hermit's cabin — that strange 
Hermit who had thus retired to solitude and exile for 
love of a princess. 1 Has she not spirit ? Let Greville 
mark : " For me, I was enraptured. I could have staid 
all night there, and I have never been in charity with 
the moon since, for it looked so pale and sickly. And 
the red-hot lava served to light up the moon, for the 
light of the moon was nothing to the lava." Ascend- 
ing, she meets the Prince-Royal. His " foolish 
tuters," fearful of their charge's safety and their own, 
escort him only halfway, and allow him but three 
minutes for the sight. She asks him how he likes it. 
" Bella, ma poca roba," replies the lad. Five hundred 
yards higher he could have watched " the noblest, 
sublimest sight in the world." But the " poor fright- 
ened creatures " beat " a scared " retreat : " O, I shall 
kill myself with laughing! " And is not the plebeian 
girl schooling herself to be a match for crass blue 
blood? " Their [h]as been a prince paying us a visit. 
He is sixty years of age, one of the first families, and 
[h]as allways lived at Naples; and when I told him I 
had been at Caprea, he asked me if I went there by 
land. Only think what ignorance! I staired at him, 
and asked him who was his tutor," coolly remarks the 
femme savante who writes of " as " and " stair." 

She cannot tear her eyes away from the volcano's 
awful pageant. She takes one of her maids — " a great 
biggot " — up to her house-top and shows her the con- 
flagration. The contadina drops on her knees, call- 
ing on the city's patron saints : " O fanaro mio, O An- 
tonio mio ! " Emma falls down on hers, exclaiming, 
" O Santa Loola mia, Loola mia! " Teresa rises, and 
with open eyes inquires whether " her Excellency " 

1 Alexandre Sauveur, who dared to love the Princess Ferdi* 
nand, whose tutor he was. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 93 

doubts the saints. " No," replies her mistress in 
Italian, " it is quite the same if you pray to my own 
' Loola.' " ". . . She look't at me, and said, to be 
sure, I read a great many books and must know more 
than her. But she says, ' Does not God favour you 
more than ous ? ' Says I, no. ' O God,' says she, 
' your eccellenza is very ungrateful ! He [h]as been so 
good as to make your face the same as he made the 
face of the Blessed Virgin's, and you don't esteem it a 
favour ! ' ' Why,' says I, ' did you ever see the 
Virgin?' 'O yes,' says she, 'you are like every pic- 
ture that there is of her, and you know the people 
at Iscea fel down on their knees to you, and beg'd you 
to grant them favours in her name.' And, Greville, it 
is true that they have all got it in their heads that I 
am like the Virgin, and — do come to beg favours of 
me. Last night there was two preists came to my 
house, and Sir William made me put a shawl over 
my head, and look up, and the preist burst into tears 
and kist my feet, and said God had sent me a purpose." 
Emma is in vein indeed. How buoyantly she swims 
and splashes on the rising tide ! How exuberantly the 
whole breathes of " I always knew I could, if oppor- 
tunity but walked towards me ! " and of " I will show 
Greville what a pearl he has cast away ! " Although 
she could be diffident when matched with genuine ex- 
cellence or before those she loved, how the blare of 
her trumpet drowns all the still small voices ! One is 
reminded of Woollett, the celebrated eighteenth cen- 
tury engraver, who was in the habit of firing off a 
small cannon from the roof of his house every time he 
had finished a successful plate. What a profuse med- 
ley of candour and contrivance, of simplicity and van- 
ity, of commonness and elegance, of courtesy and chal- 
lenge, of audacity and courage, of quick-wittedness 
and ignorance, of honest kindness and honest irrever- 



94 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

ence! She is already a born actress of realities, and 
on no mimic stage. Yet many of her faults she fully 
felt, and held them curable. " Patienza," she sighs, 
and time may mend them; in her own words of this 
very period, " I am a pretty woman, and one cannot 
be everything at once." 

But a more delicate strain is audible when her heart 
is really touched. 

At the convent whither she resorted for daily les- 
sons during Sir William's absence, now transpired an 
idyl which must be repeated just as she describes it : — ■ 

" I had hardly time to thank you for your kind let- 
ter of this morning as I was buisy prepairing for to 
go on my visit to the Convent of Santa Romita; and 
endead I am glad I went, tho' it was a short visit. 
But to-morrow I dine with them in full assembly. I 
am quite charmed with Beatrice Acquaviva. Such is 
the name of the charming whoman I saw to-day. Oh 
Sir William, she is a pretty whoman. She is 29 years 
old. She took the veil at twenty; and does not repent 
to this day, though if I am a judge in physiognomy, 
her eyes does not look like the eyes of a nun. They 
are allways laughing, and something in them vastly 
alluring, and I wonder the men of Naples wou'd suffer 
the oneley pretty whoman who is realy pretty to be 
shut in a convent. But it is like the mean-spirited ill 
taste of the Neapolitans. I told her I wondered how 
she wou'd be lett to hide herself from the world, and I 
daresay thousands of tears was shed the day she de- 
prived Naples of one of its greatest ornaments. She 
answered with a sigh, that endead numbers of tears 
was shed, and once or twice her resolution was allmost 
shook, but a pleasing comfort she felt at regaining 
her friends that she had been brought up with, and 
religious considerations strengthened her mind, and 
she parted with the world with pleasure. And since 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 95 

that time one of her sisters had followed her example, 
and another — which I saw — was preparing to enter 
soon. But neither of her sisters is so beautiful as her, 
tho' the[y] are booth very agreable. But I think Bea- 
trice is charming, and I realy feil for her an affection. 
Her eyes, Sir William, is I don't know how to describe 
them. I stopt one hour with them; and I had all the 
good things to eat, and I promise you they don't starve 
themselves. But there dress is very becoming, and she 
told me that she was allow'd to wear rings and mufs 
and any little thing she liked, and endead she display'd 
to-day a good deal of finery, for she had 4 or 5 dimond 
rings on her fingers, and seemed fond of her muff. 
She has excellent teeth, and shows them, for she is all- 
ways laughing. She kissed my lips, cheeks, and fore- 
head, and every moment exclaimed ' Charming, fine 
creature,' admired my dress, said I looked like an 
angel, for I was in clear white dimity and a blue 
sash." (This, surely, is scarcely the seraphic garb 
as the great masters imaged it.) ". . . She said she 
had heard I was good to the poor, generous, and noble- 
minded. ' Now,' she says, ' it wou'd be worth wile to 
live for such a one as you. Your good heart wou'd 
melt at any trouble that befel me, and partake of one's 
greef or be equaly happy at one's good fortune. But 
I never met with a f reind yet, or I ever saw a person I 
cou'd love till now, and you shall have proofs of my 
love.' In short I sat and listened to her, and the tears 
stood in my eyes, I don't know why; but I loved her 
at that moment. I thought what a charming wife 
she wou'd have made, what a mother of a family, 
what a f reind, and the first good and amiable whoman 
I have seen since I came to Naples for to be lost to 
the world — how cruel ! She give me a sattin pocket- 
book of her own work, and bid me think of her, when 
I saw it, and was many miles far of[f]; and years 



96 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

hence when she peraps shou'd be no more, to look at it, 
and think the person that give it had not a bad heart. 
Did not she speak very pretty? But not one word of 
religion. But I shall be happy to-day, for I shall 
dine with them all, and come home at night. There 
is sixty whomen and all well-looking, but not like the 
fair Beatrice. 'Oh Emma,' she says to me, 'the[y] 
brought here the Viene minister's wife, but I did not 
like the looks of her at first. She was little, short, 
pinch'd face, and I received her cooly. How dif- 
ferent from you, and how surprised was I in seeing 
you tall in statu [r]e. We may read your heart in 
your countenance, your complexion; in short, your 
figure and features is rare, for you are like the marble 
statues I saw when I was in the world.' I think she 
flattered me up, but I was pleased." x 

The convent cloisters bordered on those " royal " 
or " English " gardens which Sir William and she 
were afterwards so much to improve; and here, if the 
Marchesa di Solari's memory can be trusted — and it 
constantly trips in her Italian record — happened, it 
would seem, about this time, another incident typical 
of another side, more comic than pathetic. It sounds 
like some interlude by Beaumarchais, and recalls 
Rosina of Figaro. Intrigue belongs to Naples. The 
young Goethe observed of the Neapolitan atmosphere : 
" Naples is a paradise. Every one lives, after his 
manner, intoxicated with self-forgetfulness. It is the 
same with me. I scarcely recognise myself, I seem 
an altered being. Yesterday I thought ' either you 
were or are mad.' " 2 

The madcap belle's stratagem was this. Walking 

1 Morrison MS. 160, January 10, 1787. It should here be com- 
memorated that one of her first actions at Naples was to pro- 
cure a post for Robert White, a protege of Greville. 

"Goethe, Italienische Reise, March 16, 1787. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 97 

there one afternoon under the escort of her duenna, 
she was accosted by a personage whom she knew to 
be King Ferdinand. He solicited a private interview, 
and was peremptorily refused. He succeeded, how- 
ever, in bribing her attendant, and followed her to a 
remote nook, where they would be unobserved. He 
pressed his promises with fervour, but Emma refused 
to listen to a word, unless everything was committed 
to paper. 1 The monarch complied, and thereupon 
Emma hastened to the palace and urgently entreated 
an audience with the Queen. Sobbing on her knees, 
she implored her to save her from persecutions so great 
that unless they were removed she had resolved to quit 
the world and find shelter with the nuns. The Queen, 
touched by such beauty in such distress, urged her to 
disclose the name of her unknown importuner. There- 
upon Emma handed her the paper, was bidden by the 
Queen to rise, and comforted. So far there seems 
ground for the tale. The Marchesa says that Sir Will- 
iam " partially " confirmed it; and this must allude to 
the sequel which represents Maria Carolina as urging 
the Ambassador to marry his Lucretia without delay. 
Whether it is true that the tears of affliction were 
caused by an onion, and that Emma was " on her mar- 
row-bones " in the garden while the Queen was perus- 
ing the tell-tale document, depends upon the number 
of embellishments such a farce would probably re- 
ceive. If true, it hardly redounds to Emma's credit. 
But from Emma we must now part awhile to con- 

1 From indications in her letter. Cf. Morrison MS. 157, De- 
cember 26, 1786 (Emma to Sir William) : "If I had the offer of 
crowns, I would refuse them and except you, and I don't care 
if all the world knows it. . . . Certain it is I love you and 
sincerely." And cf. ibid. 153 : " We are closely besieged by the 
King in a roundabout manner, but ... we never give him 
any encouragement." In this very year the prima donna Banti 
was whisked off across the frontier by the Queen's orders for 
presuming to favour the amorous King's attentions. 



98 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

sider the social and political conditions of the court of 
Naples, very different now from what they were to 
become a few years later under the new forces of the 
French Revolution, and, afterwards, of the meteoric 
Napoleon. It is a panorama which here can only be 
sketched in outline. It was to prove the theatre of 
Emma's best activities. 

During the entire eighteenth century, from the War 
of Succession to the Treaty of Utrecht, from the 
Treaty of Utrecht to that of the Quadruple Alliance, 
from that again to those of Vienna and of Aix, the 
Bourbons and the Hapsburgs had been perpetually 
wrestling for the rich provinces of central and south- 
ern Italy — a prize which united the secular appeal to 
Catholic Europe with supremacy over the Mediter- 
ranean. The Bourbons, by a strange chain of co- 
incidence, had prevailed in Spain, and in 173 1 "Baby 
Carlos " solemnly entered on his Italian and Sicilian 
heritage, long so craftily and powerfully compassed by 
his ambitious mother, Elizabeth Farnese. The Haps- 
burgs, however, never relinquished their aim, though 
the weak and pompous Emperor, Charles VI. , was re- 
duced to spending his energies on the mere phantom of 
the " Pragmatic Sanction " by which he hoped to 
cement his incoherent Empire in the person of his mas- 
terful daughter; he died hugging, so to speak, that 
" Pragmatic Sanction " to his heart. Maria Theresa 
proved herself the heroine of Europe in her proud 
struggle with the Prussian aggressor who for a time 
forced her into an unnatural and lukewarm league 
with the French Bourbons, themselves covetous of 
the Italian Mediterranean. Even after the French 
Bourbons were quelled, France, in the person of Na- 
poleon, succeeded to their ambitions. Second only to 
his hankering after Eastern Empire, was from the 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 99 

first the persistent hankering after Naples and Sicily 
of the would-be dominator of the sea, whose coast 
had been his cradle. 

Maria Theresa was therefore delighted when in 
April, 1768, her eldest daughter, Maria Charlotte, bet- 
ter known as " Maria Carolina," espoused, when barely 
sixteen years of age, Ferdinand, son of the Bourbon 
Charles III. of Spain, then only one year her senior, 
and already from his eighth year King of the Two 
Sicilies. Still more did she rejoice when two years 
later her other daughter, Marie Antoinette, married at 
the same age the Due de Berri, then heir-presumptive 
to the French throne, which he ascended four years 
afterwards. Both daughters were to fight manfully 
with a fate which worsted the one and extinguished 
the other, while the husbands of both were true Bour- 
bons in their indecision and their love of the table; 
for of the Bourbons it was well said that their chapel 
was their kitchen. 

" King " Maria Theresa educated all her children 
to believe in three things : their religion, their race, 
and their destiny. They were never to forget that 
they were Catholics, imperialists, and politicians. But 
she also taught them to be enlightened and benevolent, 
provided that their faithful subjects accepted the grace 
of these virtues unmurmuring from their hands. They 
were to be monopolists of reform. They were also 
to be monopolists of power; nor was husband or wife 
to dispute their sway. Indeed, the two daughters 
were schooled to believe that control over their con- 
sorts was an absolute duty, doubly important from 
the rival ascendency wielded by the Queens of the 
Spanish Bourbons, who for three generations had been 
mated with imbecile or half -imbecile sovereigns; they 
had a knack of calling their husbands cowards. And 
they were to be monopolists of religion even against 

Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 4 



ioo EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the Pope if he unduly interfered. These lessons were 
graven on the hearts of all but Marie Antoinette, who 
shared the obstinacy but lacked the penetration of her 
sister and brothers. 

Maria Theresa's son and successor, Joseph II. of 
Austria, showed to the full this union of bigotry 
and benevolence, both arbitrary yet both popular. He 
and his premier, Kaunitz, were strenuous in educa- 
tion and reform, but also strenuous in suppressing the 
Jesuits. His brothers were the same. Archduke 
Ferdinand played the benevolent despot in Bohemia, 
while Leopold, afterwards Grand Duke of the Tuscan 
dominions, was even more ostentatious in his high- 
handed well-doing. Never was a dynasty politer, 
more cultivated, more affable. But never also was one 
haughtier, more obstinate, or more formal. All were 
martyrs to etiquette, but all were also enthusiastic 
freemasons, and Queen Maria Carolina's family en- 
thusiasm for the secret societies of " Illuminati " 
sowed those misfortunes which were afterwards 
watered with blood, reaped in tears, and harvested by 
iron. In 1790 Leopold, for a space, succeeded to 
Joseph; and Maria Carolina was afterwards to see one 
of her sixteen children wedded to Francis, Leopold's 
successor on the Austrian throne, another to the King 
of Sardinia, a third, in the midst of her final calamities, 
united at Palermo to the future Louis Philippe. She 
thus became mother-in-law to an emperor of whom 
she was aunt, as well as to two monarchs ; while already 
she had been sister to two successive emperors. 

Her husband, Ferdinand IV., was a boor and bon 
vivant, good-natured on the surface, but with a strong 
spice of cruelty beneath it; suspicious of talent, but up 
to the fatal sequels of the French Revolution the 
darling of his people. As the little Prince of Asturias, 
he had been handed to the tutorship of the old Duke 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 101 

of San Nicandro, who was restricted by the royal 
commands to instruction in sport, and in his own 
learning to a bowing acquaintance with his breviary. 
Inheriting a throne, while a child, by the accident of 
his father's accession to the Spanish crown, he had 
been reared in Sicily — always jealous of Naples — 
under the tutelage of Prince Caramanico, a minister 
of opera bouffe, and of Tenucci, a corrupt vizier of the 
old-world pattern, who preferred place to statesman- 
ship, and pocket to power. The young King, how- 
ever, was by no means so illiterate or unjust as has 
often been assumed, and, if he was " eight years old 
when he began to reign," the rest of the Scripture 
cannot then, at any rate, be justly applied to him. 
He remained throughout his life a kind of Italianised 
Tony Lumpkin, addicted to cards and beauty, de- 
voted to arms and sport. Indeed, in many ways he 
resembled a typical English squire of the period, as 
Lord William Bentinck shrewdly observed of him 
some twenty-five years afterwards. Music was also 
his hobby. He sang often, but scarcely well; and 
Emma, when he first began to practise duets with her, 
humorously remarked, " He sings like a King." 

The people that he loved, and who adored him, 
were the Neapolitan Lazzaroni — not beggars, as the 
name implies, but loafing artisans, peasants, and fish- 
ermen, noisy, loyal, superstitious, rollicking, unthrifty, 
vigorous, in alternate spasms of short-li -ed work and 
easy pleasure — the natural and ineradicable outcome 
of their sultry climate, their mongrel blood, their red- 
hot soil, and their pagan past. Motley was their wear. 
As happens to all peculiar peoples, they could not suf- 
fer or even fancy alien conditions. When the Grand 
Duke and Duchess of Russia visited Naples in 1782 
during an abnormal spell of February cold, they swore 
that the northerners had brought the accursed weather 



102 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

with them. They had their recognised leaders, their 
acknowledged improvisatores, their informal func- 
tions and functionaries, like a sort of unmigratory 
gypsy tribe. They had their own patois, their own 
customs, their own songs, their favourite monks. Such 
was the famous Padre Giordano, the six-foot portent 
of a handsome priest, the best preacher, the best singer, 
the best eater of macaroni in the King's dominions. 
They had, too, their own feuds, in a country where 
even composers like Cimarosa and Paisiello were al- 
ways at loggerheads and made separate factions of 
their own. All that they knew of England before 
1793 was that their own Calabria furnished the wood 
for its vaunted ships. With the Lazzaroni, Ferdinand 
early became a prime favourite. He was not only 
their king, but their jolly comrade. He was a Falstaff 
king, even in his gross proportions; a king of mis- 
rule in his boisterous humour. He was a Policinello 
king whose Bourbon nose won him the sobriquet of 
" Nasone " from his mountebank liegemen. He was 
a Robin Hood king, who early formed his own free- 
booting bodyguard; he was also King Reynard the 
Fox, with intervals of trick and avarice, although, un- 
like that jungle-Mephistopheles, Ferdinand could never 
cajole. He was, in truth, both cramped and spirited — 
" a lobster crushed by his shell," as Beckford once 
termed him — despite his defects both real and im- 
puted, his want of dignity, his phlegmatic exterior and 
his rude antics. Every Christmas saw him in his box 
at San Carlo, sucking up macaroni sticks for their 
edification from a steaming basin of burnished silver, 
while the Queen discreetly retired to a back seat. 
Every Carnival witnessed him in fisher's garb playing 
at fish-auctioneer on the quay which served as market, 
bandying personal jests, indulging in rough horse- 
play, and driving preposterous bargains to their boister- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 103 

ous delight. This picturesque if greasy court would 
strike up the chorus in full sight of their macaroni 
monarch : — 

" S'e levata la gabella alia farina ! 
Evviva Ferdinando e Carolina." 

He loved to play Haroun Alraschid — to do justice in 
the gate — and, when hunting, to pay surprise visits 
to the cabins of the peasantry and redress their 
wrongs; though when the fit was on him he could 
scourge them with scorpions. In his rambles on the 
beach the despot would toss the dirtiest of his rough 
adherents violently into the sea, and if he could not 
swim, would then himself plunge into the water and 
bring him laughing from his first bath to the shore. 
It was one of these sallies that suggested to Canova 
his marble Hercules throwing Lichas into the sea, ac- 
quired by the bankers Torlonia before they were styled 
princes; and, indeed, the coarser side of Hercules 
as Euripides portrays him in the Alcestis bears 
some resemblance to this uncouth and burly Nim- 
rod. 

While he was at first proud of his femme savante 
and left affairs of state until 1799 almost entirely in 
her hands and Acton's, his jealousy tended more and 
more to treat her as a preciense ridicule, and he grew 
fond of asserting his mastery by playing the 
Petruchio, sometimes to brutality. 

For a long time he was pro-Spanish, while his 
wife remained pro- Austrian, and came to abominate 
Spanish policy more than ever when in 1778 Charles 
IV. of Spain ascended the throne with a caballing 
consort whom Maria Carolina detested. Ferdinand 
boasted that his people were happy because each could 
find subsistence at home, and the time was still distant 
when to the proverb on his name of " Farina " and 



104 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

" Feste," " Forca " was superadded. If he pauper- 
ised his people with farinaceous morsels and festiv- 
ities, he did not as yet execute them. Nor was 
he destitute of bluff wit and exceedingly common 
sense. 

There is a familiar anecdote which may illustrate his 
rough and ready humour as well as his favourite 
methods of government. On one occasion his pedantic 
brother-in-law Leopold asked Ferdinand what he was 
u doing " for the people. " Nothing at all, which is 
the best," guffawed the King in answer ; " and the 
proof is that while plenty of your folk go wheedling 
and begging in my territory, I will wager anything 
you like that none of mine are soliciting anything in 
yours." This was the same Leopold whom the royal 
pair visited in their " golden journey " of 1785 which 
paraded the new navy organised by Acton. 

The Queen, however, was an " illuminata " by bent 
and upbringing. She was always devising theories 
and executing schemes, and besides literature, botany, 
too, engrossed her attention. It is a mistake to judge 
either her or him in the light of after occurrences, and 
it is an error as misleading to judge even those events 
by the evidence of Jacobin litterateurs, one at least 
among the most violent of whom did not hesitate to 
recant. It was only long afterwards that she became 
lampooned, and that the " head of a Richelieu on a 
pretty woman " was held up to execration in the words 
Of the ancient diatribe on Catherine of Medicis : — 

" Si nous faisons l'apologie 

De Caroline et Jezabel, 
L'une fut reine en Italie, 

Et l'autre reine en Israel. 
Celle-ci de malice extreme, 
L'autre etait la malice merae." 1 

1 "Would casuists find excuses try 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 105 

Neither King nor Queen, though both have much 
to answer for at the bar of history, were ever the pan- 
tomime-masks of villainy and corruption that resent- 
ment and rumour, public and private, have affixed to 
their names. 

The Queen's full influence was not apparent until 
the birth of an heir in 1777, when by a clause of 
her marriage-settlement she became entitled to sit in 
council. But long before, she had begun to inspire 
reforms very distasteful to the feudal barons who at 
first composed her court. She endeavoured to turn a 
set of antiquated prescriptions into a freer constitu- 
tion, and to cleanse the Neapolitan homes. She limited 
the feudal system of rights — odious to the people at 
large — to narrow areas, and this popular limitation 
proved long afterwards the main cause of the nobil- 
ity's share in the middle-class revolution of 1799. The 
marriage laws were re-cast much on the basis of Lord 
Hardwick's Act in England. The administration of 
justice was purified. Besides locating the University 
in the fine rooms of the suppressed Jesuit monastery, 
to some of which she transferred the magnificent an- 
tiques of the Farnese and Palatine collections, she 
founded schools and new institutions for the encour- 
agement of agriculture and architecture. Even the 
hostile historian Colletta admits that she drew all the 
intellect of the age to Naples. Waste lands were re- 
claimed, colonies planted on uninhabited islands, ex- 
isting industries developed, and the coral fisheries on 
the African coasts converted into a chartered com- 

For Caroline and Jezebel, 
The one was queen in Italy, 
The other, queen in Israel. 
Extremes of malice marked the second, 
Malice itself the first was reckoned." 
Cf. Crimes et Amours des Bourbons de Naples, Paris, Anon., 
1861. 



106 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

pany. The evils of tax-gathering were obviated; the 
ports of Brindisi and Baia restored; highways were 
made free of expense for the poor; tolerance was uni- 
versally proclaimed; the Pope's right to nominate 
bishops was defied ; nor was she reconciled to Pius VI. 
till policy compelled her to kneel before him in her 
Roman visit of 179 1. At the period now before us, 
most of the pulpits favoured her. Padre Rocco, the 

• blunt reformer of abuses, Padre Minasi, the musical 
archaeologist, were loud in her praises. And this de- 
spite the fact that, though regular in her devotions 
and the reverse of a free-thinker, she resolutely op- 
posed the " crimping " system which from time to 
time reinforced the Neapolitan convents. She also 
bitterly offended the vested rights of the lawyers and 
the army. An enthusiast for freemasonry (and long 
after her death the Neapolitan lodges toasted her 
memory), she assembled around her through these so- 
cieties a brilliant throng of savants and poets, while 
it was her special aim to elevate the intellects of 
women. Among the circle of all the talents around 
her were the great economist and jurist Filangieri, 
revered by Goethe, but dead within two years after 
Emma's arrival; the learned and ill-starred Cirillo and 
Pagano, who both perished afterwards in the Revolu- 

' tion; Palmieri, Galanti, Galiani, Delfico, the scientists; 
Caravelli, Caretto, Falaguerra, Ardinghelli, Pigna- 
telli, all lights of literature; and Conforti, the his- 
torian. But perhaps the most interesting of all, and 
the most typical, was Eleonora de Fonseca Pimentel, 
subsequently muse and victim of the outburst in 
1799. 

This remarkable poetess, Portuguese by origin, 
merits and has received a monograph. Up to 1793, 
indeed, this friend and disciple of Metastasio was the 
professed eulogist of the Queen. She styled her 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 107 

" La verace virtute, e di lei figlio 
II verace valor." ' 

She joined her in denouncing " Papal vassalage " in 
Italy. When the royal bambino died in 1778 she in- 
dited her " Orfeo " as elegy. When the " golden jour- 
ney " was accomplished, the Miseno port re-opened, 
and the fleet re-organised, her " Proteus and 
Parthenope " celebrated the commencement of a golden 
age. But what most aroused her enthusiasm was the 
foundation of that singular experiment in monarchical 
socialism — the ideal colony of San Leucio at Caserta 
between the years 1777 and 1779. This settlement 
was the first-fruits of the Queen's socialism, though its 
occasion was the King's liking for his hunting-box — • 
built in 1773 at the neighbouring Belvedere, and on 
the site of the ancient vineyard and palace of the old 
Princes of Caserta. A church was erected in 1776 
for a parish governed by an enlightened code of duties 
" negative and positive," and even then numbering no 
less than seventeen families. Some of the royal build- 
ings were converted into schools ; even the prayers and 
religious ordinances were regulated, as were all observ- 
ances of the hearth, and every distribution of property. 
Allegiance was to be paid first to God, then to the 
sovereign, and lastly to the ministers. Under Fer- 
dinand's nominal authorship a book of the aims, orders, 
and laws of the colony was published, of which a copy 
exists in the British Museum. On its flyleaf Lady 
Hamilton has herself recorded : — " Given to me by the 
King of Naples at Belvedere or S. Leucio the 16th of 
May, 1793, when Sir William and I dined with his 
Majesty and the Duchess of Devonshire, Lady Webster, 
Lady Plymouth, Lady Bessborough, Lady E. Foster, 
Sir G. Webster, and Mr. Pelham. Emma Hamilton." 

1 " True virtue, and the birth of virtue true, 
True courage." 



108 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

These names are in no accidental association. The 
then and the future Duchesses of Devonshire headed a 
galaxy of which Charles James Fox was chief, and to 
which Sir William's devotees, Lady " Di " Beauclerk 
and the Honourable Mrs. Darner, also belonged. 

Eleonora's ode in its honour hymns the " royal 
city " where " nature's noble diadem " crowns " the 
spirit of ancient Hellas." 

But for all these undertakings, even before stress 
of invasion and vengeance for wrongs prompted large 
armaments and an English alliance, financial talent 
of a high order was needful; taxation had to be broad- 
ened, and it could not be enlarged without pressing 
heavily on the professional classes, for the Lazzaroni 
were always privileged as exempt. The necessities 
which led to the shameful tampering with the banks 
in 1792-93 had not yet arisen; but organising talent 
was needed, and organising talent was wanting. 
Tenucci proved as poor a financier as once our own 
Godolphin or Dashwood. Jealous of Carolina's mani- 
fest direction, he caballed, and was replaced as first 
minister in 1776 by the phantom Sambuca. Even 
then the pro-Spanish party among the grandees 
menaced the succession well-nigh as much as the pro- 
Jacobins did some five years later. Even then it was 
on very few of the numberless Neapolitan nobles (a 
" golden book " of whom would outdo Venice and 
equal Spain) that the perplexed Queen could rely. 
Caramanico was a mere monument of the past, and as 
such consigned to England as ambassador; while his 
young and romantic son Joseph was reputed the 
Queen's lover, and forbidden the court. The cox- 
comb and procrastinator, Gallo, who afterwards ratted 
to Napoleon, was already mismanaging foreign af- 
fairs. The old and respectable Caracciolo, father of 
that rebel admiral whom Nelson was to execute, was 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 109 

for the moment Minister of Finance, but approaching 
his end. That Admirable Crichton, Prince Belmonte, 
afterwards as " Galatone " ambassador at the crucial 
post of the Madrid Embassy, now preferred the of- 
fice of Chamberlain to any active direction of affairs. 
Prince Castelcicala, twice ambassador to the court 
of St. James's, and nearly as acceptable to the Queen 
as Belmonte, had not yet been pressed into home con- 
cerns, nor had he disastrously earned his inquisitorial 
spurs of 1793. Sicigniano, who was to commit suicide 
when ambassador in London in the same year, be- 
longed to the same category; the young and accom- 
plished Luigi di Medici had not yet emerged into a 
prominence that proved his doom. Prince Torella 
was a nonentity; the Rovere family, which was to 
supply the Sidney or Bayard 1 of the Revolution, was 
not now of political significance. The professional 
classes were as yet excluded from government, and 
creatures like the notorious Vanni were denied power. 
Amid the general dearth the excitable Queen was at 
her wit's end for a capable minister. During her 
Vienna and Tuscan visits of 1778 she consulted, as 
always, her august relations; and the result was their 
recommendation of John Francis Edward Acton, whose 
younger brother had for some time been serving in the 
Austrian army. In consenting to the trial of an un- 
known man, middle-aged and a foreigner, the Queen 
hardly realised to what grave issues her random choice 
was leading. 

Acton, third cousin of Sir Richard Acton of Alden- 
ham Hall, Shropshire, to whose baronetcy and estates 
he most unexpectedly succeeded in 1791, was the son 
of a physician, Catholic and Jacobite, settled at Besan- 
gon. He was born in 1736, and may have first entered 
the French Navy, which he quitted probably as a cadet 
1 Prince Ettore Carafa. 



no EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

in search of advancement, and not because of the 
vague discredits afterwards imputed by the Jacobins. 
The British Navy he could scarcely have contemplated, 
because in the days of the Georges Catholicism and 
Jacobitism were grave impediments to success. At 
the age of thirty-nine he entered the naval service of 
Carolina's brother, the Grand Duke Leopold of 
Tuscany, and attracted Caramanico's notice by his 
bravery as Captain on a Spanish expedition against 
the Moors. Summoned by a stroke of luck to control 
a realm at once ambitious and sluggish, he infused 
English energy at every step. A martinet by train- 
ing and disposition, shrewd, worldly, calculating, yet 
sturdy, and for Naples, where gold always reigned, 
inflexibly honest, he was well capable of defying and 
brow-beating the supple Neapolitan nobility who de- 
tested his introduction. A smooth-tongued adven- 
turer, though good looks were not on his side, he 
speedily won the favour of a Queen inclined to make 
tools of favourites, and favourites of tools; but he 
soon convinced her also that a mere tool he could never 
remain. He was naturally pro-British, and Britain 
was already a Mediterranean power: Acton recom- 
mended the country of his origin to the Queen's notice 
in the veriest trifles. It was not many years before 
Maria Carolina was driving in the English curricle 
which Hamilton had provided for her. Little else 
than a stroke of destiny, under the conjunctures of the 
near future, brought the new foreigner into close al- 
liance with Sir William Hamilton, whose patriotism in 
the very year when he was lolling with Sir Horace 
Mann at Portici had expressed itself in a fervent wish 
to see France " well drubbed," and a fury at the 
non-support of Rodney by Government. The differ- 
ent natures of the two perhaps cemented their friend- 
ship. Hamilton for all his natural indolence could 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON in 

rise to emergency; Acton, on the contrary, was all com- 
promise and caution — a sort of Robert Walpole in 
little, with " steady " for his motto. Hamilton was 
good-tempered to a fault : Emma wrote of him after 
her marriage that he preferred " good temper to 
beauty." In Acton lay a strong spice of the bully, 
and he could be very unjust if his authority was im- 
pugned. He was a born bureaucrat, and it was his 
love of bureaucracy, as will appear, that ruined the 
Queen. 

Acton's only marriage occurred in his old age with 
his young niece, by papal dispensation in 1805, as Pet- 
tigrew has recorded. His brother Joseph's descend- 
ants are still at Naples. But none of his family play 
any part in the drama before us. Starting as an Ad- 
miral of the Neapolitan Fleet, he soon became Min- 
ister both of Marine and War. Caracciolo the elder's 
opportune transference to diplomacy in Paris and Lon- 
don, which Acton's future libellers accused him of 
contriving, as afterwards even of causing his death, 
installed him as Minister of Finance. He at once ad- 
vised the institution of thirteen Commissioners who 
could all be censured in event of failure; "divide et 
impera " was his principle ; and at first his resource 
proved successful. He was soon made also a Lieuten- 
ant-General ; while some ten years later, in his heyday, 
he was appointed Captain-General, and at last a full- 
blown Field-Marshal. But long before, he blossomed 
into power with the Queen, whose anti-Spanish policy 
chimed with his own, and whose abhorrence of the 
pro-Spanish functionaries around her required a 
champion in council. This created two camps in the 
court, for up to 1796 the King was pro-Spanish to 
the core. But the Queen was already predominant, 
and it was soon bruited that the Latin " hie, hczc, hoc " 
meant Acton, the Queen, and the King thus derided 



ii2 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

as neuter ; indeed some added that Acton was " hie, 
hcec, hoc" in one. In a brief space Acton had con- 
solidated a powerful fleet — which in 1793 he was able 
to despatch in aid of the English at Toulon — and a 
formidable army. The French events of 1789 ren- 
dered him all the more indispensable to Maria Caro- 
lina, whose ears were terrified by the first rumblings 
of an earthquake so soon to engulf her sister's fam- 
ily. The Bastille was taken, the Assembly held, and 
fawning false-loyalty loomed fully as dangerous as up- 
roarious Jacobinism. In the same year America estab- 
lished her " Constitution." Already the aunts of 
Louis XVI., the two old " demoiselles de France," 
were on the verge of abandoning Paris for Rome; 
already the charged air tingled with Liberty, Equal- 
ity, Fraternity; already Carolina, masking hysterical 
restiveness by imperious composure, was debating if 
armed help were possible from Austria as well as 
from Naples. But the irritated barons were unwar- 
like, the King cared little, the lawyers still depended on 
his favour, the intelligent middle-class was beginning 
to welcome the Gallic doctrines. Austria, too, was by 
no means ready. And yet in Carolina's ears the hour 
of doom was already striking. She longed for an 
untemporising deliverer, a self-sacrificing friend, a 
leader of men and movements ; and as she longed and 
champed in vain, she could only wait and hope and 
prepare. Her anxiety was not that of a normal 
woman. Calm in mind, in love and hate her ardour 
ran to extremes. Though she owned a far better head 
than her unhappy sister, her heart, outside her home 
and in spite of her passions, was far colder. She was 
truly devoted to her children, she was fond of romp- 
ing even with the children of strangers ; and yet when 
her sons-in-law grew lukewarm in aiding her, she 
could rage against her daughters. Jealousy of her 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 113, 

ogling and dangling consort was often a prime mo- 
tive for her actions; and yet she had often been 
femme galante, and was ever bent on mystery and 
intrigue. She harped on duty, but her notions of 
duty rested on maintaining the royal birthright of 
her house. Masterful as her mother, light-living as 
her eldest brother, she was neither hard nor frivolous. 
She could be both ice and fire. Her strange tem- 
perament combined the poles with the equator. 



The year 1789 proved critical for Emma also. It 
brought to Naples, among other illustrious visitors, 
the good and gracious Duchess of Argyll, formerly 
Duchess of Hamilton, who, as the beautiful Miss Gun- 
ning, had years before taken England, and indeed 
Europe, by storm. She had come southward for her 
health. Her first marriage had related her to Sir 
William, and no sooner had she set eyes on Emma than 
she not only countenanced her in public but conceived 
for her the most admiring and intimate friendship. 
Hitherto the English ladies had been coldly civil, but 
under the lead of the Duchess they now began to fol- 
low the Italian vogue of sounding her praises. Emma 
became the fashion. It was already whispered that 
she was secretly married to the Ambassador, and had 
she been his wife she could scarcely have been more 
heartily, though she would have been more openly, ac- 
cepted. Her request that she might accompany Sir 
William, the King, and Acton on one of their long 
and rough sporting journeys had been gladly granted. 
She had attended her deputy-husband on his equally 
rough antiquarian ramble through Puglia, made in 
the spring of 1789. " She is so good," he informed 
Greville, " there is no refusing her." By the spring of 
1790 not only the Duchess but the whole Argyll fam- 
ily lavished kindness on the extraordinary girl whom 



114 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

they must have respected. The new Spanish ambas- 
sador's wife also had become her intimate friend. 
Madame Le Brun, too, repaired in the wake of the 
French troubles to Naples, and was besieged for por- 
traits. Madame Skavonska, the Russian ambassador's 
handsome wife, so empty-headed that she squandered 
her time in vacancy on a sofa, was her first sitter. 
Emma, brought by the eager Hamilton, was the sec- 
ond, and during her sittings she was accompanied by 
the Prince of Monaco and the Duchess of Fleury. 
Madame Le Brun, herself by no means devoid both 
of jealousy and snobbishness, raved of her beauty, 
but formed no opinion of her brain, while she found 
her " supercilious." This is curious, for by common 
consent Emma gave herself no airs; she conciliated 
all. But though never a parvenue in her affections, 
she could often behave as such in her dislikes; and 
her self-assertiveness could always combat jealous or 
freezing condescension. Her improvement both in 
knowledge and behaviour had from other accounts 
enhanced her accomplishments. No breath of scan- 
dal had touched her; she was Hamilton's unwedded 
wife, and her looks had kept even pace with her for- 
ward path in many directions: she was fairer than 
ever and far less vain. The Queen herself already 
pointed to her as an example for the court, to which, 
however, Emma could not gain formal admittance until 
the marriage which she had predicted in 1786 had been 
duly solemnised. For that desired climax everything 
now paved the way. Each night in the season she re- 
ceived fifty of the elite at the Embassy, till in Janu- 
ary, 1 79 1, her success was crowned by a concert and 
reception of unusual splendour. The stars of San 
Carlo performed. The court ladies vied with each 
other in jewels and attire. The first English, as well 
as the first Neapolitans, thronged every room; there 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 115 

were some four hundred guests. Emma herself was 
conspicuously simple. Amid the blaze of gems and 
colours she shone in white satin, set off by the natural 
hues only of her hair and complexion. 

And yet she was not elated. Her one study, her 
single aim, she wrote to Greville, were to render Sir 
William, on whom she " doated," happy. She would 
be the " horridest wretch " else. They had already 
passed nearly five years together, " with all the do- 
mestick happiness that's possible." 

Was there any rift within the lute? If so, it lay in 
Greville's attitude. He opened his eyes and sighed 
as he read of Emma's virtuous glory; and he opened 
them still wider when she assured him of her " esteem " 
for " having been the means of me knowing him," and 
added " next year you may pay ous a visit." That 
Sir William should marry her quite passed the bounds 
of his philosophy; there would be an eclat, and eclats 
he detested ; his uncle would make himself ridiculous. 
It seems likely, from an allusion in a letter from Ham- 
ilton of a full year earlier, that the nephew had al- 
ready thrown out hints of suitable provision should 
chance or necessity ever separate the couple. Sir Will- 
iam, however, had been deaf to such suggestions, al- 
though, "thinking aloud," he did mention £150 a 
year to Emma, and £50 to her mother, " who is a very 
worthy woman." Such contingencies, however, could 
not apply to their present " footing," for " her con- 
duct was such as to gain her universal esteem." The 
only chance for such a scheme hinged on her per- 
tinacity in pressing him to marry her. " I fear," he 
continued, " that her views are beyond what I can 
bring myself to execute, and that when her hopes on 
this point are over, she will make herself and me un- 
happy." But he recoiled from the thought; despite 
the difference in their ages and antecedents, " hitherto 



n6 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

her conduct is irreproachable, but her temper, as you 
must know, unequal." 

And now all these obstacles had melted under the 
enchanter's wand, it would seem, of the charming 
Duchess, who may well have urged him to defy con- 
vention and make Emma his wife. Sir William's 
fears were not for Naples, nor wholly for Greville, 
who might laugh if he chose. They were rather for 
the way in which his foster-brother, King George, and 
his Draco-Queen, might receive such news, and how 
they might eventually manifest their displeasure; the 
Ambassador, however much and often he was wont 
to bewail his fate, had no notion of retiring to absurd 
obscurity. But these objections also seem to have 
been equally dispersed by the fairy godmother of a 
Duchess who was bent on raising Cinderella to the 
throne; and although Queen Charlotte eventually re- 
fused to receive Lady Hamilton, yet Sir William's 
imminent return was in fact signalised by the honour 
of a privy councillorship. Long afterwards, he as- 
sured Greville that his treatment when he was eventu- 
ally replaced, and subsequently when he was denied 
reimbursement for his losses and his services (both 
to go fully as unrewarded as his wife's), was not 
due to the king but to his ministers. Moreover, his 
two old Eton School friends, Banks and the ubiquitous 
Lord Bristol, Bishop of Derry, had signified their ap- 
proval. The latter in his peregrinations had already 
worshipped at Emma's Neapolitan shrine — a devotee at 
once generous and money-grubbing, cynical and in- 
genuous, constant and capricious, who (in Lady Ham- 
ilton's words) " dashed at everything," and who was 
so eccentric as to roam Caserta in a gay silk robe 
and a white hat. This original — a miniature mix- 
ture of Peterborough, Hume, and, one might add, 
Thackeray's Charles Honeyman — had braced Hamil- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 117 

ton's resolution by telling him it was " fortitude " and 
a " manly part " to brave a stupid world and secure 
Emma's happiness and his own. Sir William, whose 
inclination struggled with Greville's prudence, could 
not gainsay his friends who echoed the wishes of his 
heart. And all this must have been furthered by the 
Duchess of Argyll. 

No wonder that her sad death at the close of 1790, 
far away from the climate which had proved power- 
less to save her, desolated Emma. " I never," she as- 
sured Greville, who already knew of their home- 
coming in the spring, " I never had such a freind as 
her, and that you will know when I see you, and re- 
count ... all the acts of kindness she shew'd to me: 
for they where too good and numerous to describe in a 
letter. Think then to a heart of gratitude and sensi- 
bility what it must suffer. Ma passiensa: to ha 
molto." 

The marriage project was first to visit Rome, where 
they would meet the Queen, about to be reconciled to 
the Pope, on her homeward journey from Vienna. 
Then to repair to Florence, where they could take a 
short leave both of her and the King; and thence to 
Venice, where they were to encounter, besides many 
English, the cream of the flying French noblesse, in- 
cluding the Counts of Artois and Vaudreuil, the Poli- 
gnacs, and Calonne. Before May was over they would 
be in London, and there, if things went smoothly, the 
wedding should take place. Emma's heart must have 
throbbed when she reflected on the stray hazards that 
might still wreck that happiness for which she had 
long pined, and overthrow the full cup just as it 
neared her lips. 

Greville was unaware of the dead secret, but he im- 
plored Emma not to live in London as she had done in 
Naples; he pressed the propriety of separate establish- 



n8 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

merits. Emma laughed him to scorn. The friend of 
the late Duchess and her friends could afford to flout 
insular opinion. But she laughed too soon: had she 
been wiser she might possibly have propitiated the 
Queen of England by discretion. It further happened 
that Greville's official friend and Emma's old ac- 
quaintance, Heneage Legge, met and spied on the 
happy pair at Naples, just before he and they left for 
Rome; he promptly reported progress to Greville, who 
had plainly asked for enlightenment. The unsuspect- 
ing Hamilton called on Legge immediately to proffer 
him every friendly service. Mrs. Legge was in del- 
icate health, and Emma, too, kindly offered to act 
as her companion, or even nurse. Legge was embar- 
rassed; his wife civilly declined Emma's attentions, 
" kindly intended," but owing to Emma's " former 
line of life " impossible to accept. These proprieties 
confirmed Sir William's determination, and aroused 
Emma's ire. The one was accustomed to observe that 
the " reformed rake " proverb applied fully as much 
to a woman as a man. The other felt herself morti- 
fied and insulted just when her virtues rang on every 
lip. If the frail Lady Craven, for instance, were good 
enough to touch the hem of Mrs. Legge's garments, 
why not Emma, who had rashly hastened to be kind? 
Legge must tell the rest himself : " Her influence over 
him exceeds all belief. . . . The language of both 
parties, who always spoke in the plural number — we, 
us, and ours — stagger'd me at first, but soon made me 
determined to speak openly to him on the subject, 
when he assur'd me, what I confess I was most happy 
to hear, that he was not married; but flung out some 
hints of doing justice to her good behaviour, if his 
public situation did not forbid him to consider himself 
an independent man. . . . She gives everybody to un- 
derstand that he is now going to England to solicit 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 119 

the K.'s consent to marry her. ... I am confident 
she will gain her point, against which it is the duty 
of every friend to strengthen his mind as much as 
possible; and she will be satisfied with no argument 
but the King's absolute refusal of his approbation. 
Her talents and powers of amusing are very wonder- 
full. Her voice is very fine, but she does not sing 
with great taste, and Aprili [sic] says she has not a 
good ear; her Attitudes are beyond description beau- 
tifull and striking, and I think you will find her figure 
much improved since you last saw her. They say they 
shall be in London by the latter end of May, that 
their stay in England will be as short as possible, 
and that, having settled his affairs, he is determined 
never to return. She is much visited here by ladies 
of the highest rank, and many of the corps diploma- 
tique; does the honours of his house with great atten- 
tion and desire to please, but wants a little refinement 
of manners in which ... I wonder she has not made 
greater progress. I have all along told her that she 
could never change her situation, and that she was a 
happier woman as Mrs. H. than she wou'd be as 
Lady H., when more reserved behaviour being 
necessary, she wou'd be depriv'd of half her amuse- 
ments." x 

Sound sense enough, but most unlikely to convince 
Emma's self-confidence. Mrs. Legge, too, and after- 
wards Queen Charlotte, were justified in excom- 
municating Emma before her marriage; such decencies 
are concerns of precedent, the etiquette of morality. 
But it is surely a cruel and un-Christian precedent, to 
set up without exception that a girl who had raised 
and trained herself as Emma had done should be de- 
barred from the possibility of legitimate retrieval. 
Such standards savour far more of the world than of 

1 Morrison MS. 190; Legge to Greville, Naples, March 8, 1791. 



120 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Heaven. And, at all events, it must be conceded 
that at this period Emma, who had been beloved not 
only by the Duchesses of Argyll and Devonshire, but 
by such young ladies as Miss Carr, could not possibly 
have hurt or soiled the British matron. There may 
well have been quite as much unamiable envy as in- 
jured innocence in the blank refusal to let her show 
that she was a kind and helpful woman, even though 
she had not always been irreproachable. 

London was reached at last, and the King's re- 
luctant sanction obtained. They were feted and en- 
tertained by the Marquis of Abercorn, by Beckford at 
Fonthill, and by the Duke of Queensberry, who gave 
a brilliant concert at Richmond in their honour, where 
Emma herself performed. But her chief delight was 
her reunion with those art coteries where she had ever 
felt herself freest and most at home. One of her first 
visits was to Cavendish Square. On a June morning 
she surprised Romney — an apparition in " Turkish 
dress " — while he was ailing and melancholy. Neither 
his trip in the previous year, nor the warm friendship 
of Hayley, who had now fitted up a studio for him 
at Eartham, could exorcise the demon of dejection 
which brooded over him. The wonderful girl whose 
career he had watched afar, cheered him back to his 
former source of inspiration. His letters to Hayley 
of this date are full of her. She was eager that her 
old friend should recognise that she was " still the 
same Emma." She sat for him constantly, and be- 
sides his many other studies and portraits of her, he at 
once made her the model of his Joan of Arc, the idea 
of which his recent journey across the Channel had 
suggested. Both this and a " Magdalen " were com- 
missioned by the Prince of Wales, who seems to have 
met her at the Duke of Queensberry's. He painted 
her as " Cassandra," he designed to paint her as " Con- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 121 

stance," he commenced a fresh " Bacchante." He 
dined with her and Sir William, and they both dined 
thrice with him, first in July and afterwards in August. 
He broke his rule of solitude in order that " several 
people of fashion " might behold the performances of 
one whom he declared " superior to all womankind." 
She in her turn begged him to let Hayley set about 
writing his life. All that she did or said fascinated 
him; and the fondest father, remarks his biographer, 
could not have taken a keener pleasure in the marriage 
of a favourite daughter than did Romney in her im- 
minent wedding. Her acting and singing so trans- 
ported him, that he was on the point of posting off 
near midnight to fetch Hayley from Eartham. " She 
performed both in the serious and comic to admira- 
tion : but her ' Nina ' " — a part two years later the 
especial delight of Maria Carolina — " surpasses every- 
thing I ever saw, and I believe, as a piece of acting, 
nothing ever surpassed it. The whole company were 
in an agony of sorrow. Her acting is simple, grand, 
terrible, and pathetic." It was this power of moving 
others that, according to a tradition often repeated 
by the late Sir Francis Hastings Doyle, once so worked 
on Nelson ten years afterwards, that he walked up 

and down the crowded room muttering, " D 

Mrs. Siddons ! " with whom somebody had contrasted 
her. On the occasion just mentioned Gallini, the im- 
presario, offered her £2000 a year and two benefits " if 
she would engage with him " ; but, in Romney's words, 
" Sir William said pleasantly that he had engaged 
her for life." 

For a few weeks Romney fancied her attitude 
towards him altered ; the mere suspicion disquieted his 
nerves, but the cloud was soon dispelled. Meanwhile 
Hayley, who was to compose a fresh poem on her just 
before her wedding, indited the following: 



122 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

" Gracious Cassandra ! whose benign esteem 

To my weak talent every aid supplied, 

Thy smile to me was inspiration's beam, 

Thy charms my model, and thy taste my guide. 

But say ! what cruel clouds have darkly chilled 
Thy favour, that to me was vital fire? 

O let it shine again ! or worse than killed, 
Thy soul-sunk artist feels his art expire." 

On her very wedding day Emma sat for the last 
time to the great artist for that noble portrait of her 
as the " Ambassadress," and she and her husband 
" took a tender leave " of one inseverable from her for 
ever. 

Hamilton and she were the talk of the town. When 
they drove out or went to parties, or entered the box 
at Drury Lane, every eye was upon them, and it was 
at Drury Lane that the acting of Jane Powell brought 
together the two former mates in servitude as the ad- 
mired of all beholders. 

All this must have nettled Greville, of whose feel- 
ings at this time there is no record. But his opposi- 
tion does not seem to have been serious, for Sir Will- 
iam and Emma passed their time in a round of visits to 
the whole circle of his relations, who were mostly 
her keen partisans. Lord Abercorn, indeed, went so 
far as to protest that her personality had " made it 
impossible " for him " to see or hear without making 
comparisons "; and from this time forward Lord Will- 
iam Douglas also became Emma's lifelong upholder. 
The summer of 1791 was unusually hot, and from the 
latter part of July to mid-August they stayed with 
relatives in the country, including Beckford, when 
Emma for the first time beheld the Oriental and the 
Gothic glories, the mounting spire, the magic ter- 
races, the fairy gardens, and all the bizarre splendours, 
including its owner, of Fonthill Abbey. 

On the whole, this delicate experiment had sue- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 123 

ceeded, although Queen Charlotte's ban doubtless 
rankled in Emma's breast. 1 The King himself was 
more pained than offended, and had confirmed Ham- 
ilton in the security of his appointment. 

Nor was it only grand folks or old friends that 
Emma had frequented. It is clear from allusions in 
shortly subsequent letters that both she and her mother 
visited that " poor little Emma " who had re-awakened 
the longings of motherhood in the old but unforgot- 
ten days of Parkgate. 

On September 6th Sir William and " Emy," or 
" Emily," Lyon were duly wedded at Marylebone 
Church, long associated with the Hamilton family. 
The marriage was solemnised by the Rev. Doctor Ed- 
ward Barry, rector of Elsdon, Northumberland. The 
witnesses were Lord Abercorn and L. Dutens, sec- 
retary to the English Minister at Turin, with whom 
Emma long maintained a faithful friendship. Her 
heart was overflowing. She felt, as she told Rom- 
ney, so grateful to her husband, so glad in restored 
innocence and happiness, that she would " never be 
able to make " him " amends for his goodness." They 
started homeward by way of Paris, where they were 
to see for the first and last time that tortured Queen 
who was fast completing the tragedy of her doom. 
Henceforward the name of " Hart " is heard no 
more. Henceforward Emma is no longer obscure, 
but, as Lady Hamilton, passes into history. 

1 The Queen would never receive Lady Hamilton even after 
the return of the Hamiltons to England, and Nelson will be 
found angry that Sir William would go to court alone ; cf. post, 
chap. xii. 



CHAPTER V 

TILL THE FIRST MEETING 
I79I-I793 

1ADY HAMILTON returned to bask in social 
. favour. It was not only the Neapolitan noblesse 
•* and the English wives that courted and caressed 
her. Their young daughters also vied with each other 
in attentions, and vowed that never was any one so 
amiable and accomplished as this eighth wonder. 
Among these was a Miss Carr, who not long after- 
wards married General Cheney, an Aide-de-Camp to 
the Duke of York, during the next few years more 
than once a visitor at Naples. The writer possesses 
a miniature in water-colour, drawn by this young lady, 
of the friend to whom she long remained attached. 
Emma sits, clad all in white, with an air of sweetness 
and repose. At the back of this memento she has 
herself recorded: "Emma Hamilton, Naples, Feb. 11, 
1792. I had the happiness of my dear Miss Carr's 
company all day ; but, alas, the day was too short." 

There is nothing in this likeness to betoken the pur- 
pose and ambition which she was shortly to display 
in the side-scenes of history. Horace Walpole had 
written, " So Sir William has married his gallery of 
statues." Emma soon ceases to be a statue, and be- 
comes prominent in the labyrinth of Neapolitan in- 
trigue; her role as patriot begins to be foreshadowed. 

Throughout these three critical years of stress and 
shock momentous issues were brewing, destined to 

124 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 125 

bring into sharp relief and typical collision the two 
giants of France and England, Napoleon and Nelson; 
while all the time, under fate's invisible hand, Nelson 
was as surely tending towards Naples and Emma, as 
Emma was being drawn towards Nelson. From the 
moment of her return in the late autumn of 1791 she 
began, at first under Hamilton's tuition, to study and 
understand the political landscape. 

Nowhere outside France did the Revolution bode 
omens more sinister than at the Neapolitan court. The 
Queen clearly discerned that her French sister and 
brother-in-law trembled on the brink of destruction. 
She knew that the epidemic of anarchy must endanger 
Naples among the first, and might involve the possible 
extinction of its dynasty. She was not deceived by 
the many false prophets crying peace where no peace 
was; still less by the wild schemes for hairbreadth 
escapes which sent visionary deliverers scouring 
through Europe. Her one hope — soon rudely shat- 
tered — lay in Austria's power to effect a coalition of 
great powers and strong armies. She had just quit- 
ted the family council in Vienna, following on the 
death of her brother Joseph the Second, and the short- 
lived accession to the throne of her other brother 
Leopold, the pedantic philanthropist. Its object had 
been, in Horace Walpole's phrase, to " Austriacise " 
the position of the Italian Bourbons, by family inter- 
marriages and a betrothal. Her efforts were bent on 
a league against France, and it was for this that on 
her way home she had contrived a surprise meeting 
with the weak Pope Pius VI., penetrated the Vatican, 
abjured her anti-papal policy, and humiliated herself 
in the dust. And yet Louis XVI. besought her to sus- 
pend efforts which might rescue him, and shrank from 
embittering his false friends. Austria, too, was for 
seven years to prove a broken reed. Spain was never a 



126 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

whole-hearted enemy of France, and within three years 
was to become her ally. The Queen awoke to a fury 
of indignation and hopelessness. Her foes were 
those of her own household — her nobles, her husband, 
his Spanish brother and sister, — and herself. Hith- 
erto she had been reckoned an enlightened patroness, 
compassing the equality and fraternity of subjects who 
had never required political liberty. She had stub- 
bornly resisted the Spanish Machiavellianism which 
had manoeuvred to undermine those very f reemasonries 
which Maria Carolina had founded and forwarded. 
Spain was, in truth, the key of the present position. 
Spain was befooling Ferdinand and spiting his wife 
at every turn. The Spanish queen coveted Naples for 
her own offspring, and the two queens abominated each 
other. She was quite aware that the pro-Spanish 
party, abetted by her blockhead of a husband, covertly 
designed the transference of the Crown of the Two 
Sicilies to the Duke of Parma, while many of the 
Neapolitan nobles, affronted at the abolition of their 
feudal rights, were in secret confederation with it. 
She sprang from a house glorying in its despotic 
monopoly of popular principles, yet it was to such 
fatalities that these very principles were leading. 
Stability and authority had been her aims, yet the 
ground was fast slipping from beneath her feet. She 
was a true scion of the casuist Hapsburgs, who had 
always considered pride as a sacred duty, and who, if 
their system were imperilled, would be ready to de- 
fend it by conscientious crimes. In the refrain of her 
own subsequent letters, "II faut faire son devoir 
jusqu'au tombeau." 

And added to all this was the shifting mood of her 
consort, whose infidelities she (like the queen of our 
own George the Second) only condoned in order that 
his good humour might enable her to rule. He had 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 127 

always twitted her with being an " Illuminata," he 
now derided her as the " Austrian hen." His advisers 
would prompt him to rely more than ever on his Span- 
ish kindred, to slight the Hapsburgs and herself. 
When Emma long afterwards claimed to have " De- 
Bourbonised " the Neapolitan court, it was to these 
conditions that she referred. 

Gallo, the foreign minister, leaned towards and upon 
Spain. Even Acton hitherto had been content to pro- 
pitiate the King by taking his cue from Madrid. The 
King himself had regarded England merely as a mar- 
ket for dogs and horses, the Queen, only as an enemy 
of Spain. That the attitude of both was shortly 
to be transformed was partly due to Emma's enthusi- 
asm as spokeswoman for her husband. Even in 
February, 1796, Emma wrote to Lord Macartney, who 
had just arrived at Naples, that " the Queen has much 
to do to persuade " Ferdinand, that " she is wore out 
with fatigue," and that " he approves of all our pros- 
pects." She refers, I think, to his Spanish bias. The 
moot question soon became, Was Naples to be Spanish 
or English? The Austrian influence, so prized by an 
Austrian princess, was on the wane. As England's 
advocate the light-hearted Emma was drawn into the 
political vortex, and assumed the mysterious solemnity 
befitting her part. 

In her perplexity it was to Acton that Maria Caro- 
lina turned. She thought him a man of iron, whereas 
he was really one of wood; but he was methodical, 
pro-Austrian, and at the core pro-English. Under 
the imminence of crisis, he and Hamilton — still a man 
of pleasure, but not its slave — both came to perceive 
that unless the whole system of Europe was to be 
reversed, an Anglo-Sicilian alliance was imperative. 
Hamilton, however, was slower to discern the neces- 
sity which Emma realised by instinct. Writing in 



i28 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

April, 1792, he says: "The Neapolitans, provided 
they can get their bellies full at a cheap rate, will not, 
I am sure, trouble their heads with what passes in 
other countries, and great pains are taken to prevent 
any of the democratic propaganda, or their writings, 
finding their way into this kingdom." Even in 1795 
he was to be more concerned with the success of his 
treatises on Vesuvius than with the tangle of treaties 
fast growing out of the situation. It was not till 
1796 that he took any strong initiative with Acton. 
The two Sicilies indeed were now a shuttlecock between 
the treacheries of Spain and the dilatoriness as well as 
venality of Austria. 

But for England the French cataclysm meant some- 
thing wholly different from its significance for the 
Continent. Great Britain stood alone and aloof from 
other powers. She was the nurse of traditional order 
and traditional liberty conjoined; disorder and license, 
although exploitable by political factions under specious 
masks, never appealed to the nation at large. Britain's 
upheavals had been settled by happy compromise more 
than a century before. Jacobinism menaced her 
" free " trade, and might strike even at her free in- 
stitutions. She was a great maritime and a Mediter- 
ranean power whose coign of vantage in Gibraltar 
would prove useless if Naples and Sicily, Malta and 
Sardinia should fall to France. Sicily, indeed, had 
been one of her objectives in that great Utrecht Treaty 
which had transferred it to the friendly house of 
Savoy, while it secured Gibraltar and Port Mahon to 
Great Britain. And ever since, Spain had been Eng- 
land's sworn enemy. Spain was France's natural ally, 
nor would the revolutionary burst long deter the Span- 
ish Bourbons from an anti-British policy. Spain had 
tricked Austria and braved Great Britain throughout 
the eighteenth century, yet it was on Spain that Maria 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 129 

Carolina's husband habitually relied. From England, 
too, throughout that century, had rained those showers 
of gold which had subsidised the enemies of Bourbon 
preponderance. " Will England," wrote Acton some 
years later to Hamilton, when Emma, as the Queen's 
" minister plenipotentiary," had " spurred " them on, 
" see all Italy, and even the two Sicilies, in the French 
hands with indifference? . . . We shall perish if such 
is our destiny, but we hope of selling dear our destruc- 
tion." 

In England the remonstrant Burke forsook the 
pseudo-Jacobin Whigs. It was hoped, and not with- 
out reason, that Pitt as a great statesman might fore- 
see the situation. But the difficulty all along in the 
British cabinet, and sometimes the obstacle, was to 
prove Lord Grenville, cold, stiff, timid, official to a 
fault; so cautious that he twice counselled the two 
Sicilies to make the best peace they could with Buona- 
parte, since they must go under; and so diplomatic 
that, even after Nelson's Mediterranean expedition 
had been concerted between the two courts, he begged 
Circello, the Neapolitan Ambassador, to pretend dis- 
content in public with what had just been privately 
arranged. In the same year, defending the ministry 
against the Duke of Bedford's abortive motion for, 
their dismissal, and praising the gallant navy " which 
had ridden triumphant at the same moment at the 
mouths of Brest and Cadiz and Texel," the Secretary 
for Foreign Affairs could only be wise after the event. 
He could only defend the prolongation of war by 
Barere's threat of " Delenda est Carthago," by Con- 
dorcet's opinion that under a peace we should have 
been relieved of Jamaica, Bengal, and our Indian pos- 
sessions; by bemoaning England's vanished "power 
to control the Continent," by proclaiming that she was 
" at her lowest ebb," and by complaining that Austria 



i 3 o EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

had deserted the Alliance. Commenting on his at- 
titude, thirteen years afterwards, towards Emma's 
claims, Canning, who warmly favoured them, dwells 
on the same characteristic of " coldest caution." Such 
a spirit could ill deal with the conjuncture. Mob- 
despotism was now the dread of Europe. Mob-rule 
was already rampant in France, though the time was 
still distant when the Marchioness of Solari could 
declare that the French had robbed her of all but the 
haunting memory of Parisian gutters swimming with 
blood. 

Acton acceded to the Queen's request with rigour, 
but his weak point lay in the fact that he was a born 
bureaucrat; while the sort of bureaucracy that he fa- 
voured, one of secret inquisition, turned political of- 
fences into heresies, and Jacobins into martyrs. Bu- 
reaucracies may check, but have never stemmed, 
revolutions which are calmed — when they can be 
calmed — by commanding personality alone. A bu- 
reaucrat is never a trusted nor even a single figure, 
for he belongs to unpopular and unavailing groups and 
systems, which from their nature must at best be 
temporary stop-gaps. As Jacobinism throve and per- 
severed, the Lazzaroni, who execrated it as a foreign 
innovation, cheered their careless King, but they came 
to hiss the Queen for her countenance of bureaucracy, 
until Nelson entered the arena, and Emma formed, in 
1799, a " Queen's party," at the very moment when 
Maria Carolina dared not so much as show Her face 
at Naples. 

Already in the spring the French events began to 
affect Naples. Mirabeau dead, the abortive escape to 
Varennes, Louis XVI. in open and abject terror, Dan- 
ton and Petion bribed, the National Convention, the 
cosmopolitan cries of "Let us sow the ideas of 1789 
throughout the world. . . . We all belong to our 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 131 

country when it is in danger. . . . Liberty and equality 
constitute country," spread their contagion broadcast. 
They did not yet inflame the Neapolitan middle class; 
they never caught the Neapolitan people; but their 
leaven had already touched the offended nobles and 
the ungrateful students. From the moment of Louis' 
imprisonment in the Temple, his sister-in-law changed 
her tack and resolved to go " Thorough." The pul- 
pits were pressed into an anti-Jacobin crusade. The 
administration of the twelve city wards, hitherto su- 
pervised by elected aldermen, was transferred without 
warning to chiefs of police as judges and inspectors. 
Denouncers and informers were hired, although as yet 
the brooding Queen used her spies for precaution alone, 
and not for vengeance. The republican seed of the 
secret societies, sown by her own hands, had borne a 
crop of democracy ripening towards harvest. Her 
academic reformers were fast developing into open 
revolutionaries. The red cap was worn and flaunted. 
Copies of the French Statute were seized in thousands 
as they lurked in sacks on the rocks of Chiaromonte; 
two even found their way into the Queen's apartments. 
This conspiracy she hoped to nip in the bud. It had 
not assumed its worst proportions ; nor as yet had dis- 
loyalty thrown off the mask, and appeared as a bribed 
hireling of the National Convention. The grisly hor- 
rors at Paris of 1792, preluding only too distinctly 
the crowning executions of 1793, called also for sterner 
measures. By July, Beckford, an eye-witness, re- 
marks that even Savoy was " bejacobinised, and plun- 
dering, ravaging," were " going on swimmingly." 
The Queen bestirred herself abroad. A league was 
formed between Prussia and Austria. The Duke of 
Brunswick issued his manifesto that one finger laid 
on Louis would be avenged. Danton exclaimed, " To 
arms!" France, generalled by Dumouriez, hero of 

Memoirs — Vol. 14—5 



132 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Jemappes, and Kellermann of Valmy, was invaded. 
The assassination of Gustavus of Sweden followed. 
But the brief victory of the confederate arms at 
Longwy soon yielded to the Valmy defeat. Monarchy 
was on its trial. 

Once more the Queen conferred with Acton, and 
their deliberations resulted in the detestable Star Cham- 
ber of the "Camera Oscura." Force was to be met 
by force, and cabal by cabal. Prince Castelcicala, a 
far abler minister than Acton, was recalled from Lon- 
don to assist in its councils; Ruffo, not yet Cardinal, 
became its assessor ; while the stripling Luigi di Medici, 
under the title of " Regente della vicaria," was made 
its head inquisitor. But mercy was still shown. She 
does not indeed appear at this period to have enter- 
tained any idea of persecution. Most odious means, 
however, were taken to crush a conspiracy of foreign 
and unpopular origin. Some hundreds of the better 
class, some thousands of the scum, were banished, or 
confined in the prisons of Lampedusa and Tremiti. 
Such is an imperfect outline of what happened in 1791 
and 1792. 

The interview of the Hamiltons with Marie An- 
toinette on their homeward journey has been already 
noticed. Nearly twenty-four years afterwards Lady 
Hamilton, never accurate, and constitutionally exag- 
gerative, declared in her last memorial under the 
pressure of sore distress, that she then presented to the 
Queen of Naples her sister's last letter. There is small 
disproof that substantially she told the truth. She 
may well have carried a missive, for Marie Antoinette 
neglected none of her now rare chances of communica- 
tion. About the same time, however, the Marchioness 
of Solari also repaired from Paris to Naples with 
another communication, which was probably verbal, 
and may possibly have preceded Lady Hamilton's al- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 133 

leged message. In the autumn of 1793, however, the 
Marchioness again visited Naples and brought with 
her what undoubtedly seems the last letter received 
by Maria from Marie. Emma's statement has been 
questioned on the ground that hers was not the last 
message. It is perhaps hardly worth while debating 
whether all credence should be denied to the bearer of 
an important letter simply on the ground of priority. 
Any such letter whatever would have recommended its 
bearer to the Queen of Naples. 

Whether or no this incident fastened afresh the 
Queen's regard, certain it is that Maria Carolina gave 
the mot d'ordre for Lady Hamilton's acceptability. 
Nobody disputed her position, least of all the English. 
She was at once formally presented to the Queen. By 
mid-April of 1792 Sir William Hamilton could tell 
Horace Walpole, just acceding to his earldom, that the 
Queen had been very kind, and treated his wife " like 
any other travelling lady of distinction." " Emma," 
he adds, " has had a difficult part to act, and has suc- 
ceeded wonderfully, having gained by having no pre- 
tensions the thorough approbation of all the English 
ladies. . . . You cannot imagine how delighted Lady 
H. was in having gained your approbation in England. 
. . . She goes on improving daily. . . . She is really 
an extraordinary being." 

Within a month of her arrival in the previous 
autumn, and in the midst of successes, she sat down 
to write to Romney. The tone of this letter deserves 
close attention, for no under-motive could colour a 
communication to so old and fatherly a comrade: 
" I have been received with open arms by all the 
Neapolitans of both sexes, by all the foreigners of 
every distinction. I have been presented to the Queen 
of Naples by her own desire, she [h]as shewn me all 
sorts of kind and affectionate attentions ; in short, I am 



i 3 4 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the happiest woman in the world. Sir William is 
fonder of me every day, and I hope I [he?] will have 
no corse to repent of what he [h]as done, for I feel 
so grateful to him that I think I shall never be able 
to make him amends for his goodness to me. But 
why do I tell you this ? You was the first dear friend 
I open'd my heart to; you ought to know me. 1 . . . 
How grateful then do I feel to my dear, dear husband 
that has restored peace to my mind, that has given 
me honors, rank, and what is more, innocence and 
happiness. Rejoice with me, my dear sir, my friend, 
my more than father; believe me, I am still that same 
Emma you knew me. If I could forget for a mo- 
ment what I was, I ought to suffer. Command me in 
anything I can do for you here; believe me, I shall 
have a real pleasure. Come to Naples, and I will be 
your model, anything to induce you to come, that I 
may have an opportunity to show my gratitude to you. 
. . . We have a many English at Naples, Ladys 
Malm[e]sbury, Maiden, Plymouth, Carnegie, and 
Wright, etc. They are very kind and attentive to me ; 
they all make it a point to be remarkably cevil to me. 
Tell Hayly I am always reading his Triumphs of Tem- 
per; it was that that made me Lady H., for God 
knows I had for five years enough to try my temper, 
and I am affraid if it had not been for the good ex- 
ample Serena taught me, my girdle wou'd have burst, 
and if it had I had been undone; for Sir W. minds 
more temper than beauty. He therefore wishes Mr. 
Hayly wou'd come, that he might thank him for his 
sweet-tempered wife. I swear to you, I have never 
once been out of humour since the 6th of last Septem- 
ber. God bless you." 

Romney, whose friend Flaxman, now in Rome, 

1 Here follows the passage about her " sense of virtue " not 
being overcome in her earliest distresses, quoted ante in chap. ii. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 135 

counted himself among Emma's devotees, replied in 
terms of humble respect. He deprecated the liberty 
of sending a friend with a letter of introduction, and 
only wished that he could express his feelings on the 
perusal of her " happyness." " May God grant it 
may remain so to the end of your days." 

How " attentive " to her Lady Plymouth and the 
English sisterhood were at this early period is shown 
by a letter which changed hands during the present 
year. It is couched not only in terms of affection, 
but of trust. If the French terror became actual at 
Naples, Lady Plymouth would take refuge with Lady 
Hamilton, and " creep under the shadow of " her 
" wings." The leaders of English society relished, as 
always, a new sensation, and, away from England, de- 
lighted to honour one so different from themselves. 

While all this underground disturbance proceeded, 
the outward aspect of court and city was serenity it- 
self. Ancient Pompeii could not have been more 
frivolously festive. Ill as they suited her mood, the 
Queen, from policy, encouraged these galas. They 
distracted the court from treason, they pleased her 
husband and people, and they attracted a crowd of 
useful foreigners, especially the English, who, during 
these two years, inundated Naples to their Ambassa- 
dor's dismay. The distinguished English visitors of 
1792 included the sickly young Prince Augustus, after- 
wards Duke of Sussex, whose delicate health and mor- 
ganatic marriage 1 alike added to Hamilton's anxieties. 
But for the disturbed state of the Continent, " Vathek " 
Beckford — to whom Sir William was always kind — 
would have revisited his kinsman also. He had not 

1 With Lady Augusta Murray, to whom he was a devoted hus- 
band in the teeth of his father's and brother's opposition. Lady 
Hamilton continued to enjoy his friendship long afterwards. 



136 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

long quitted his " dear " and queenly friend " Mary of 
Portugal," and was now travelling through Savoy 
with a retinue worthy of Disraeli's Sidonia and com- 
posed of half the emigres, musicians, and cooks — chefs 
d'orchestre et de cuisine — of Versailles; and Emma's 
old friend Gavin Hamilton was also among the throng. 
A correspondence between husband and wife dur- 
ing the January of this year, and his absence with 
the King at Persano, is pleasant reading, and pictures 
a happy pair. The Ambassador, who up to now had 
found his business in sport, cheerfully roughing it on 
bread and butter, going to bed at nine and rising at five, 
reading, too, " to digest his dinner," is affectionate and 
playful. He was " sorry," he writes on leaving, that 
his " dear Em " must " harden " herself to such little 
misfortunes as a temporary parting " ; but he " cannot 
blame her for having a good and tender heart." " Be- 
lieve me, you are in thorough possession of all mine, 
though I will allow it to be rather tough." His diary 
of the hour flows from a light heart and pen. He 
tells her the gossip : " Yesterday the courier brought 
the order of St. Stephano from the Emperor for the 
Prince Ausberg, and the King was desired to invest 
him with it. As soon as the King received it, he ran 
into the Prince's room, whom he found in his shirt, 
and without his breeches, and in that condition was he 
decorated with the star and ribbon by his majesty, who 
has wrote the whole circumstance to the Emperor. 
Leopold may, perhaps, not like the joking with his 
first order. Such nonsense should certainly be done 
with solemnity ; or it becomes, what it really is, a little 
tinsel and a few yards of broad ribbon." His watch- 
ful wife, in her turn, acquaints him with London 
cabals to dislodge him from office. " Our conduct," he 
answers with indignation, " shall be such as to be un- 
attackable. . . . Twenty-seven years' service, having 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 137 

spent all the King's money, and all my own, besides 
running in debts, deserves something better than a dis- 
mission. ... I would not be married to any woman 
but yourself for all the world." And again, " I never 
doubted your gaining every soul you approach. . . . 
Nothing pleases me more than to hear you do not 
neglect your singing. It would be a pity, as you are 
near the point of perfection." The very etiquette of 
the Embassy he leaves with confidence in her hands. 
" You did admirably, my dear Em., in not inviting 
Lady A. Hfatton] to dine with the prince, and still 
better in telling her honestly the reason. I have al- 
ways found that going straight is the best method, 
though not the way of the world. You did also very 
well in asking Madame Skamouski, and not taking upon 
you to present her [to the Queen] without leave. In 
short, consult your own good sense, and do not be in a 
hurry; and I am sure you will always act right. . . . 
As the Prince asked you, you did right to send for a 
song of Douglas's, but in general you will do right 
to sing only at home." He also politely deprecates his 
plebeian mother-in-law's attendance at formal recep- 
tions. But Emma, throughout her career, disdained 
to be parted for a moment. Unlike most parvenues, 
she never blushed for the homely creature who had 
stood by her in the day of trouble, and her intense love 
for her mother, even when it stood most in her way, 
ennobles her character. 

The Neapolitan revelries were sometimes the reverse 
of squeamish : " Let them all roll on the carpet," he 
writes, " provided you are not of the party. My trust 
is in you alone." 

It may be added that from stray allusions in this 
series it is evident that even thus early Lady Hamil- 
ton could translate letters and transact business. Sir 
William was naturally torpid, and his enthusiasm cen- 



138 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

tred on the wife who bestirred him. His efforts to 
keep eternally young were already being damped by 
the deaths of contemporaries. That of his old in- 
timate, Lord Pembroke, in 1794, was to evoke a char- 
acteristic comment : — " It gave me a little twist ; but 
I have for some time perceived that my friends, with 
whom I spent my younger days, have been dropping 
around me." 

The close of 1792 saw the first of those serious ill- 
nesses through which Emma was so often to nurse him. 
For more than a fortnight he lay in danger at Caserta. 
Lady Hamilton was " eight days without undressing, 
eating, or sleeping." The Queen and King sent con- 
stantly to inquire. Although Naples was distant six- 
teen miles, Ladies Plymouth, Dunmore, and Webster, 
with others of the British contingent, offered even to 
stay with her. She tells her dear Mr. Greville (how 
changed the appellation!) of her "great obligations," 
and of her grief. " Endead I was almost distracted 
from such extreme happiness at once to such misery. 
. . . What cou'd console me for the loss of such a 
husband, friend, and protector? For surely no hap- 
piness is like ours. We live but for one another. But 
I was too happy. I had imagined I was never more to 
be unhappy. All is right. I now know myself again, 
and shall not easily fall into the same error again. 
For every moment I feel what I felt when I thought I 
was loseing him for ever." x This is the letter con- 
cerning her grandmother to which reference has al- 
ready been made. Since I lay stress on the fact that 
Emma was a typical daughter of the people both in 
scorn and affection, that she was warm-hearted, un- 
mercenary, and grateful, and that she never lowered 
the natures of those with whom she was brought into 
contact, another excerpt may be pardoned : : — " I will 
1 Morrison MS. 215; Caserta, December 4, 1792. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 139 

trouble you with my own affairs as you are so good 
as to interest yourself about me. You must know I 
send my grandmother every Cristmas twenty pounds, 
and so I ought. I have 200 a year for nonsense, and it 
wou'd be hard I cou'd not give her twenty pounds 
when she has so often given me her last shilling. 
As Sir William is ill, I cannot ask him for the order; 
but if you will get the twenty pounds and send it to 
her, you will do me the greatest favor ; for if the time 
passes without hearing from me, she may imagine I 
have forgot her, and I would not keep her poor old 
heart in suspense for the world. . . . Cou'd you not 
write to her a line from me and send to her, and tell 
her by my order, and she may write to you? Send 
me her answer. For I cannot divest myself of my 
original feelings. It will contribute to my happiness, 
and I am sure you will assist to make me happy. Tell 
her every year she shal have twenty pound. The 
fourth of November last I had a dress on that cost 
twenty-five pounds, as it was Gala at Court; and be- 
lieve me I felt unhappy all the while I had it on. Ex- 
cuse the trouble I give you." 

The end of 1792 and the whole of 1793 loomed big 
with crisis. The new year opened with the judicial 
murder of the French King, it closed with that of 
Marie Antoinette. Her execution exasperated all Eu- 
rope against France. England declared war; Prussia 
retired from the first Coalition, and the second was 
formed. An Anglo-Sicilian understanding ensued. 
Through the arrival of La Touche Treville's squadron 
at Naples, the French sansculottes shook hands with 
the Italian. Hood's capture of Toulon, Napoleon's 
undoing of it, and Nelson's advent in the Agamemnon, 
opened out a death-struggle unfinished even when the 
hero died. 

To the Queen's promptings of temperament and hab- 



140 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

its of principle were now to be added the goads of re- 
venge. Jacobinism for her and her friends soon came 
to mean the devil. And with this year, too, opened also 
Lady Hamilton's intimacy with the Queen, her awak- 
ening of her listless husband, and her keen endeavours 
on behalf of the British navy. 

The worst hysteria is that of a woman who is able 
to conceal it. Such was now the Queen's. The over- 
ture to this drama of 1793 was her formal dismissal of 
Citizen Mackau, for a few months past the unwelcome 
Jacobin representative of France at the Neapolitan 
court ; at the same time, the Queen's influence procured 
the dismissal of Semouville, another " citizen " am- 
bassador at Constantinople. Treville's fleet promptly 
appeared to enforce reparation. His largest vessel 
dropped anchor in face of Castel Del Uovo, and the 
rest formed in line of battle behind it. A council was 
called. The Anglo-Sicilian treaty was yet in abeyance, 
and with shame and rage Maria Carolina had to sub- 
mit, and receive the minister back again. But this 
was not all. No sooner had Treville departed than a 
convenient storm shattered his fleet, and he returned to 
refit. His sailors hobnobbed with the secret societies, 
and a definite revolution began. France had hoped 
for attack; open war being refused, she renewed her 
designs by stealth. The Queen, incensed beyond meas- 
ure, redoubled her suspicions and her precautions. To 
the secret tribunal she added a closed " Junta," and the 
grim work of deportation and proscription set in. 
All Naples, except the Lazzaroni, rose. Despite the 
Neapolitan neutrality, Maria now organised a second 
coalition against France, which was at first successful. 
The French, too, were beaten off Sardinia. In August 
she reneAved her desperate attempts to save her sis- 
ter; the jailor's wife was interviewed. Archduchess 
Christine contrived to send the Marquis Burlot and 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 141 

Rosalia D 'Albert with carte blanche on a mission of 
rescue. It was too late : they were arrested. But 
Toulon was betrayed by Trogoff to Hood, who took 
possession of it for Louis XVII. 

Meanwhile, repression reigned at Naples. Every 
French servant was banished; some of the English vis- 
itors, among them, as Mackau's friend, Mr. Hodges, 
who pestered Emma by his attentions, were implicated. 
The Queen, mistrustful of the crew who had played 
her false, turned to Emma in her misfortunes, for 
Lady Hamilton was now quite as familiar with the 
royalties as her husband. One of the Neapolitan 
duchesses long afterwards insinuated to the Mar- 
chioness of Solari that Emma's paramount in- 
fluence was due to spying on them and the libertine 
King. 1 This may at first have been so (though envy 
supplies a likelier reason), but the real cause lies deeper. 
The Queen's correspondence commences in the winter 
of 1793, and it is quite clear that its mainspring was 
sympathy. 

" Par le sort de la naissance 

L'un est roi, l'autre est berger. 
Le hasard fit leur distance; 

L'esprit seul peut tout changer." 2 

The constraint of a traitorous and artificial court 
left the Queen without a confidante, and she welcomed 
a child of nature whom she fancied she could mould 

1 Abominable rumours, as to her and the Queen, passed cur- 
rent among the French Jacobins, who fastened the same filth 
with as little foundation on Marie Antoinette. Emma told 
Greville how she despised and ignored the lying scandals of 
Paris which Napoleon afterwards favoured from policy. 

2 It may thus be paraphrased : — 

" Random lot of birth can start 
Peasant one, another Queen. 
Chance has placed them far apart; 
Mother-wit can change the scene." 



142 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

at will. The more her pent-up hatred fastened on her 
courtiers, the more she spited them by petting her new 
favourite. The friendship of queens with the lowly 
appeals to vanity as well as to devotion. It proved so 
with both Sarah Jennings and even more with the 
humbler Abigail Masham. In still greater degree did 
it now so prove with Emma. It was not long before 
she rode out regularly on a horse from the royal 
stables, attended by a royal equerry, and enjoying 
semi-royal privileges. Maria's haughty ladies-in- 
waiting, the Marchionesses of San Marco and of San 
Clemente, can scarcely have been pleased. Jealousy 
must have abounded, but it found no outlet for her 
downfall. That the Neapolitan nobility, at any rate, 
believed in her real services to England, is shown by 
the rumour among them that she was Pitt's informer. 
Henceforward dates the growth of an English party 
and an Anglo-mania at the Neapolitan court which was 
violently opposed alike by the pro-Spanish, the pro- 
Jacobin, and the " down-with-the-foreigner " parties. 
Emma, however, stood as yet only on the threshold of 
her political influence. 

In the June of that year, " for political reasons," 
Lady Hamilton informs Greville, " we have lived eight 
months at Caserta," formerly only their winter abode, 
but now the Queen's regular residence during the hot 
months. " Our house has been like an inn this win- 
ter." (Sir William naturally sighed over the ex- 
pense.) ". . . We had the Duchess of Ancaster sev- 
eral days. It is but 3 days since the Devonshire fam- 
ily has left; and we had fifty in our family for four 
days at Caserta. 'Tis true we dined every day at 
court, or at some casino of the King; for you cannot 
immagine how good our King and Queen as been to 
the principal English who have been here — particularly 
to Lord and Lady Palmerston, Cholmondely, Devon- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 143 

shire, Lady Spencer, Lady Bessborough, Lady Plym- 
outh, Sir George and Lady Webster. And I have 
carried the ladies to the Queen very often, as she as 
permitted me to go very often in private, which I do. 
... In the evenings I go to her, and we are tete-a-tete 
2 or 3 hours. Sometimes we sing. Yesterday the 
King and me sang duetts 3 hours. It was but bad. 
. . . To-day the Princess Royal of Sweden comes to 
court to take leave of their Majesties. Sir William 
and me are invited to dinner with her. She is an 
amiable princess, and as lived very much with us. 
The other ministers' wives have not shewed her the 
least attention because she did not pay them the first 
visit, as she travels under the name of the Countess 
of Wasa. . . . Her Majesty told me I had done very 
well in waiting on Her Royal Highness the moment 
she arrived. However, the ministers' wives are very 
fond of me, as the[y] see I have no pretentions; nor 
do I abuse of Her Majesty's goodness, and she ob- 
served the other night at court at Naples [when] we 
had a drawing-room in honner of the Empress having 
brought a son. I had been with the Queen the night 
before alone en famille laughing and singing, etc. etc., 
but at the drawing-room I kept my distance, and payd 
the Queen as much respect as tho' I had never seen 
her before, which pleased her very much. But she 
shewed me great distinction that night, and told me 
several times how she admired my good conduct. I 
onely tell you this to shew and convince you I shall 
never change, but allways be simple and natural. You 
may immagine how happy my dear, dear Sir William 
is. . . . We live more like lovers than husband and 
wife, as husbands and wives go nowadays. Lord de- 
liver me! and the English are as bad as the Italians, 
some few excepted. 

" I study very hard, . . . and I have had all my 



144 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

songs set for the viola, so that Sir William may ac- 
company me, which as pleased him very much, so 
that we study together. The English garden is going 
on very fast. The King and Queen go there every 
day. Sir William and me are there every morning at 
seven a clock, sometimes dine there and allways drink 
tea there. In short it is Sir William's favourite child, 
and booth him and me are now studying botany, but 
not to make ourselves pedantical prigs and shew our 
learning like some of our travelling neighbours, but 
for our own pleasure. Greffer x is as happy as a 
prince. Poor Flint, the messenger, was killed going 
from hence. I am very sorry. He was lodged in our 
house and I had a great love for him. I sent him to 
see Pompea, Portici, and all our delightful environs, 
and sent all his daughters presents. Poor man, the 
Queen as expressed great sorrow. Pray let me 
know if his family are provided for as I may get 
something for them perhaps. . . . Pray don't fail to 
send the inclosed." 

But more than such surface-life was now animating 
Emma. A peasant's daughter, at length in the 
ascendant over an Empress's, was receiving, com- 
municating, intensifying wider impressions. When 
her Queen denounced, she abominated the Jacobins; 
her tears were mingled with Maria's over the 
family catastrophes. She preached up to her the 
English as the avengers of her wrongs. She rejoiced 
with her over the Anglo-Sicilian alliance concluded 
in July. She longed for some deliverer who might 
justify her flights of eloquence. 

England had at last joined the allies and thrown 

1 Grafer — a trusted agent of Hamilton's. He afterwards be- 
came the manager of Nelson's Bronte estates. His wife was a 
scheming woman who, in later years, gave much trouble both to 
Nelson and Lady Hamilton. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 145 

down the gauntlet in earnest. The 10th of Septem- 
ber, 1793, brought Nelson's first entry both into Naples 
and into the Ambassador's house. 

He had been despatched by Lord Hood on a spe- 
cial mission to procure ten thousand troops from Turin 
and Naples after that wonderful surrender of starved- 
out Toulon : — " The strongest in Europe, and twenty- 
two sail of the line . . . without firing a shot." x 

The previous year had called forth two ruling strains 
in his nature : the one of irritable embitterment at 
his unrecognised solicitations for a command; 
the other of patriotic exultation when Chatham 
and Hood suddenly " smiled " upon him, thanks, it 
would seem, to the importunity of his early admirer 
and lifelong friend, the Duke of Clarence. For five 
years he had been eating out his heart on half-pay 
in a Norfolk village ; and even when the long-delayed 
command had come, crass officialism assigned him 
only a " sixty-four " and the fate of drifting aim- 
lessly off Guernsey with no enemy in sight. If proof 
be wanted of Nelson's inherent idealism, it is found 
in the fact that in these long days of stillness and 
obscurity he was brooding over the future of his 
country, and devising the means of combating un- 
arisen combinations against her. 

He was now almost thirty-five, and had been married 
six years and a half; his wife was five years younger 
than himself. 

From his earliest years, at once restrained and 
sensitive, companionable and lonely, athirst for glory 
rather than for fame, simple as a child yet brave as a 
lion, he had experienced at intervals several passionate 
friendships for women. As a stripling in Canada he 
conceived so vehement an affection for Miss Molly 
Simpson that he was with difficulty withheld from 
1 Nelson to his wife, nth September. 



146 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

leaving the service. After a short interval, Miss An- 
drews in France had rekindled the flame. His in- 
tensest feeling in the Leeward Islands had been for 
Mrs. Moutray, his " dear, sweet friend." His en- 
gagement to her associate, Frances Nisbet, had been 
sudden — some suspected from pique. The young 
widow of the Nevis doctor attracted him less by her 
heart than what he called her " mental accomplish- 
ments, . . . superior to most people's of either sex." 
These were rather of a second-rate boarding-school 
order. Nelson's unskilled, uncritical mind and his 
frank generosity always exaggerated such qualities 
in women, and not least in Emma, more self-taught 
than himself. His wife's virtues were sterling, but 
her power of appreciation very limited. She was 
perhaps more dutiful than gentle, less loving than 
jealous; her self-complacent coldness was absolutely 
unfitted to understand or hearten or companion genius. 
She entirely lacked intuition. Her outlook was 
cramped — that of the plain common-sense and un- 
imaginative prejudice which so often distinguishes her 
class. She was a nagger, and she nagged her son. 
She was quite satisfied with her little shell and, ailing 
as she was, perpetually grumbled at everything out- 
side it. But directly success attended her husband, she 
at once gave herself those social airs for which that 
class is also distinguished when it rises. She became 
ridiculously pretentious. This it was that seems to 
have disgusted Nelson's sisters in later years, though 
they were certainly prejudiced against her. Some dis- 
illusionment succeeded as time familiarised him with 
the lady of his impulsive choice. She nursed him 
dutifully in 1797; but, for her, duties were tasks. At 
Bath, a short time before his eventful voyage of 1798, 
he was to express his delight at the charms of the 
reigning toasts ; but in steeling himself against tempta- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 147 

tion, he got no further than the avowal of having 
" everything that was valuable in a wife." 

There are two sorts of genius, or supreme will : the 
cold and the warm. The one commands its material 
from sheer fibre of inflexible character and hard in- 
tellect ; the other creates and enkindles its fuel by ideal- 
ism. The former in England is signally illustrated in 
differing spheres by Walpole and Wellington; the lat- 
ter by Chatham and Nelson. Both of these shared 
that keen faculty of vision, really, if we reflect, a form 
of spiritual force, and allied to faith which, in volume, 
whether for individuals or nations, is irresistible. 
This sword of the spirit is far more powerful than 
ethical force without it ; still more so than merely 
conventional morality, which, indeed, for good or for 
ill, and in many partings of the ways, it has often by 
turns made or marred. Both, too, were histrionic — 
a word frequently misused. The world is a stage, 
and of all nature there is a scenic aspect. The dramatic 
should never be confused with the theatrical, nor at- 
titude with affectation. And the visionary with a 
purpose is always dramatic. He lives' on dreams of 
forecast, and his forecast visualises combinations, 
scenes of development, characters, climaxes. When he 
is nothing but a lonely muser, or, again, an orator 
destined to bring other hands to execute his ideas, his 
audience is the future — the " choir invisible." But 
when he himself acts the chief part in the dramas 
which he has composed, he needs the audience that he 
creates and holds. He depends on a sympathy that 
can interpret his best possibilities to himself. 

In Nelson's soul resided from boyhood the central 
idea of England's greatness. His intuitive force, his 
genius, incarnated that idea, and what Chatham 
dreamed and voiced, Nelson did. He realised situa- 
tions in a flash, and, from first to last, his courage took 



148 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the risk not only of action, but of prophecy. Indeed, 
his own motto may be said to have been that fine 
phrase of the other which he quoted to Lady Hamil- 
ton in the first letter which counselled the flight of the 
royal family in 1798 — " The Boldest measures are the 
'Safest/' George Meredith's badge of true patriotism 
fits Nelson beyond all men : " To him the honour of 
England was as a babe in his arms; he hugged it like 
a mother." 

Nelson, again, was eminently . spontaneous. There 
was nothing set or petty about him. He never posed 
as " Sir Oracle." He dared to disobey the formalists. 
He despised and offended insignificance in high places ; 
the prigs and pedants, the big-wigs of Downing 
Street, the small and self-important purveyors of dead 
letter, the jealous Tritons of minnow-like cliques. 
Above all, he abhorred from the bottom of his honest 
heart the " candid friend " — " willing to wound and 
yet afraid to strike " ; but he honoured — to return from 
Pope's line to Canning's — " the erect, the manly foe." 
Clerical by association, the son of a most pious, the 
brother of a most worldly clergyman, his bent was 
genuinely religious, as all his letters with their trust in 
God and their sincere " amens " abundantly testify. 
To clergymen he still remains the great but erring 
Nelson. But his God was the God of truth, and 
justice, and battles — the tutelary God that watches over 
England; and he himself owns emphatically in one of 
his letters that he could never turn his cheek to the 
smiter. He liked to consecrate his ambitions, but 
ambition, even in childhood, had been his impulse. 
" Nelson will always be first " had been ever a ruling 
motive. 

And, man of iron as he was in action, out of it he 
was unconstrained and sportive. He loved to let him- 
self go; he delighted in fun and playful sallies. He 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 149 

formed a band of firm believers, and he believed in 
them with enthusiasm — an enthusiasm which accentu- 
ated his bitterness whenever it was damped or disap- 
pointed. A daredevil himself, he loved daredevilry in 
others. In Emma as he idealised her, he hailed a 
nature that could respond, encourage, brace, and even 
inspire, for she was to be transfigured into the creature 
of his own imaginings. She was his Egeria. It was 
a double play of enthusiastic zeal and idealisation. She 
fired him to achieve more than ever she could have 
imagined. He stirred her to appear worthier in his 
eyes. She wreathed him with laurel; he crowned her 
image with myrtle. Many to whom the fact is repug- 
nant refuse to see that this idealised image of Emma 
in Nelson's eyes, however often and lamentably she 
fell short of it, was an influence as real and potent 
as if she had been its counterpart. Her nearest ap- 
proach to it may be viewed in her letters of 1798. 

It is idle to brand her as destitute of any moral 
standard; her inward standards were no lower than 
those of the veneered " respectables " around her. Her 
outward conduct, as Sir William's partner, had been 
above suspicion; the sin of her girlhood had been long 
buried. And in many respects her fibre was stronger 
than that of a society which broadened its hypocrisies 
some thirty years later, when Byron sang 

" You are not a moral people, and you know it, 
Without the aid of too sincere a poet." 

The radical defect in her grain was rather the com- 
plete lack of anything like spiritual aspiration. Hers, 
too, were the vanity that springs from pride, and the 
want of dignity bred of lawlessness. She had been 
a wild flower treated as a weed, and then transplanted 
to a hothouse; she was a spoiled child without being 
in the least childlike : she was self-conscious to the core. 



150 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

But if she was ambitious for herself, she was fully as 
ambitious for those that she loved, and she admired all 
who admired them. 

It is idle to dwell on the " vulgarity " of an ad- 
venturess. Adventure was the breath of Nelson's 
nostrils, and Emma's unrefined clay was animated by 
a spirit of reality which he loved. It is idle, again, 
to talk of his " infatuation," for that word covers 
every deep and lasting passion in idealising natures. It 
seems equally idle, even in the face of some uncer- 
tainty, to say that Nelson was a " dupe " in any por- 
tion of his claims for her " services " which lay within 
his own experience. With regard to these he was ab- 
solutely aware of what had actually transpired, and if 
it had not transpired he himself was a liar, which none 
have had the temerity to assert. The only sense in 
which Nelson could ever be styled the " dupe " of 
Emma would be that he was utterly cheated in his 
estimate of her. If she merely practised upon his 
simplicity, if there was nothing genuine about her, 
and all her effusiveness was a tinsel mask of hideous 
dissimulation; if she was a tissue of craft and cun- 
ning, then she was the worst of women, and he the 
most unfortunate of men. Wholly artless she was 
not; designedly artful, she never was. She was an 
unconscious blend of Art and Nature. In all her let- 
ters she is always the same receptive creature of sin- 
cere volitions and attitudes; and these letters, when 
they describe actions, are most strikingly confirmed 
by independent accounts. They are genuine. Her 
spirit went out to his magnetically; each was to hyp- 
notise the other. Had she ever been artful she would 
have feathered her nest. Throughout her career it 
was never common wealth or prodigal youth that at- 
tracted her, and in her greatest dependence she had 
never been a parasite. It was talent and kindness that 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 151 

she prized, and towards genius she gravitated. It is 
not from the bias either of praise or blame that her 
character must be judged. It is as a human document 
that she should be read. The real harm in the future 
to be worked by her on Nelson was that of the false- 
hood, repugnant to them both, which, eight years 
later, the birth of Horatia entailed — an evil aggravated 
by reaction in the nature of a puritan turned cavalier, 
and anxious to twist the irregularities of a " Nell 
Gwynne defender-of-the-faith " into consonance with 
the forms of his upbringing. 

At Naples, Nelson and his men found a royal wel- 
come in every sense of the word. The King sailed, 
out to greet him, called on and invited him thrice 
within four days. He was hailed as the " Saviour of 
Italy," and while he was feted, his crew, who from 
the home Government had obtained nothing but 
" honour and salt beef," were provisioned and petted. 
A gala at San Carlo was given in their honour; six 
thousand troops were offered without hesitation; a 
squadron was despatched. The atmosphere of 
despairing indecision was dispersed by his unresting 
alertness, his lightning insight, his faith in Great 
Britain and himself, and the heroic glow with which 
he invested duty. 

The phlegmatic Acton was impressed. His only 
fear was lest England's co-operation with Naples 
should provoke the interference of the allies, and be 
impeded by it. He superintended all the arrange- 
ments, for he was eminently a man of detail; he 
brought Captain Sutton (who stayed throughout the 
autumn) to see the King. Nelson he mis-styled " Ad- 
■miral," and there for the moment his respect ended. 
But the hospitable Hamilton, under the sway of 
Emma's enthusiasm, was enraptured. He brought 
him to lodge at the Embassy in the room just pre- 



152 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

pared for Prince Augustus, who was returning from 
Rome. He caught a spark of the young Captain's own 
electricity, he mentioned him in despatches, and con- 
ceived friendship at first sight. Here was a real man 
at last, a central and centralising genius. His wife 
shared and redoubled his astonishment. Here was 
a being who, like herself, " loved to surprise people." 
Here was one who, indefatigable in detail, and almost 
sleepless in energy, took large views, was a statesman 
as well as a sailor, and showed the qualities of a gen- 
eral besides; one, too, who, although a stern discipli- 
narian, could romp and sing with his midshipmen, one 
who made their health and his country's glory his chief 
concern. Moreover, his appearance, small, slight, wiry 
in frame, and rugged of exterior, was nevertheless 
prepossessing and imposing. When he spoke, his face 
lit up with his soul ; nor had he yet lost an eye and an 
arm. And his contempt for Jacks-in-office, which sel- 
dom failed to show itself, chimed with her own — with 
that of a plebeian who in after years constantly used 
that Irish phrase, adopted by Nelson, " I would not give 
sixpence to call the King my uncle." Here was one 
who might rescue her Queen and shed lustre on Britain ; 
who might prove the giant-killer of the Jacobin ogres. 
What Emma thought of her guest may be gathered 
from two facts, one of which is new. Though they 
were not to meet again until 1798, Nelson and Sir W. 
Hamilton were in constant and most sympathetic cor- 
respondence for the next five years. In 1796 Sir 
William recommended him to the Government as " that 
brave officer, Captain Nelson " ; " if you don't deserve 
the epithet," he told him, " I know not who does. . . . 
Lady Hamilton and I admire your constancy, and hope . 
the severe service you have undergone will be hand- 
somely rewarded.*' And her first letter of our new 
series in 1798, written hurriedly on June 17th while 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 153 

Nelson, anchored off Capri, remained on the Van- 
guard, contains this sentence : " I will not say how glad 
I shall be to see you. Indeed I cannot describe to you 
my feelings on your being so near us." A woman 
could not so express herself to a man unseen for five 
years unless the twelve days or so spent in his com- 
pany had produced a deep effect. Every concern of 
his already enlisted her eagerness. His stepson, 
Josiah, then a young midshipman, was driven about by 
her and caressed. She laughingly called him her 
cavali'ere servente. As yet it was only attraction, not 
love for Nelson. This very third anniversary of her 
wedding day had enabled her proudly to record that 
her husband and she were more inseparable than ever, 
and that he had never for one moment regretted the 
step of their union. But she did fall in love with the 
quickening force that Nelson represented. Infused by 
the ardour of her Queen, proud of the destiny of Eng- 
land as European deliverer, urged by her native am- 
bition to shine on a bigger scale, she reflected every 
hue of the crisis and its leaders. If his hour struck, 
hers might strike also. He, she, and Sir William had 
for this short span already realised what the legend 
round Sir William's Order of the Bath signified, 
" Tria juncta in uno " — three persons linked together 
by one tie of differing affections. 

The sole mentions of Emma by Nelson at this time 
are in a letter to his brother, and another to his wife, 
already noticed. But that her influence had already 
begun to work is proved by the fact that he carefully 
preserved the whole series of her letters of the summer 
and autumn of 1798. Three days only after he had 
started for Leghorn, he wrote as follows : " In my 
hurry of sailing I find I have brought away a butter- 
pan. Don't call me an ungrateful guest for it, for I 
assure you I have the highest sense of your and Lady 



154 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Hamilton's kindness, and shall rejoice in the oppor- 
tunity of returning it. . . . The sending off the prints 
adds to the kindness I have already received from 
you and Lady Hamilton." And when at the close of 
August in the next year he stayed at Leghorn once 
more, he assured Sir William how glad he would have 
been to have visited them again, " had the state of the 
Agamemnon allowed of it," but " her ship's crew are 
so totally worn out, that we were glad to get into the 
first port, . . . therefore for the present I am de- 
prived of that pleasure." 

When Nelson was not dining at court or concerting 
operations with the Ministers, he was at the Embassy 
or Caserta, meeting the English visitors, who included 
the delicate Charles Beauclerk, whom the artistic Lady 
Diana had commended to Emma's charge. All was 
joy, excitement, preparation. " I believe," wrote Nel- 
son, " that the world is now convinced that no con- 
quests of importance can be made without us." Nel- 
son had aroused Naples from a long siesta, and hence- 
forward Emma sings " God save the King " and calls 
for " Hip, hip, hurrah ! " which she teaches the Queen, 
at every Neapolitan banquet. Naples is no more a 
hunting-ground for health or pleasure, but a focus of 
deliverance. It is as though in our own days the 
Riviera should suddenly wake up as a centre of patri- 
otism and a rallying-ground for action. Within a few 
years Maria Carolina could write to Emma of singing 
the national anthem, and in the year of the Nile battle, 
of the " brave, loyal nation," and of the " mag- 
nanimous " English, whom she loves and for whose 
glory she has vowed to act. As for Nelson, he was 
in that year to be called her deliverer, her preserver, 
and her " hero." 

On September 24th Nelson purposed a slight mark 
of gratitude for the hospitality and the substantial 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 155 

reinforcements so liberally proffered. The Agamem- 
non was all flowers and festivity. He had invited the 
King, the Queen, the Hamiltons, Acton, and the Min- 
isters to luncheon. The guests were awaiting the ar- 
rival of the court under a cloudless sky amid the flutter 
of gay bunting and all the careless chatter of southern 
mirth. Suddenly a despatch was handed to the cap- 
tain. He was summoned to weigh anchor and pursue 
a French man-of-war with three vessels stationed off 
Sardinia. Not an instant was lost. The guests dis- 
persed in excitement. When Ferdinand arrived in 
his barge, it was to find the company vanished, the 
decks cleared, and the captain buried in work. Within 
two hours Nelson had set sail for Leghorn, which he 
had immediately to quit for Toulon. Calvi and its 
further triumph awaited him afterwards. 

But over the bright horizon was fast gathering a 
cloud no bigger than a man's hand. By the end of 
the year the Queen was again in the depths. Her 
sister had been executed with infamy. Buonaparte — 
whom Nelson heard described at Leghorn as an " ugly, 
unshaven little officer " — had shot into pre-eminence 
and had worked his wonders ; Toulon was evacuated. 
At home fresh conspiracies were discovered, this time 
among the nobles. The best names were implicated. 
The Dukes of Canzano, Colonna, and Cassano, the 
Counts of Ruvo and Riario, Prince Caracciolo the 
elder were arrested. The whole political landscape 
was overcast. Next year was to be one of " public 
mourning and prayer," of plague, famine, and 
pestilence. The ragged remnant of the squadron, for- 
warded with such royal elation to Toulon, returned in 
shame for shelter; and with it the ship of Trogoff, 
whom the French had branded as traitor. Two hun- 
dred victims had been slaughtered, four hundred lan- 
guished in French prisons. These fresh disasters were 



156 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

heightened and shadowed by the terrible earthquake 
of June 1 2- 1 6, when the sun was blotted out; and while 
the Archbishop, grasping the gilt image of St. Janu- 
arius, groped his way in solemn procession to the 
cathedral, the darkened sky bombarded the interceding 
city with emblematic bolts of relentless artillery. 



CHAPTER VI 

" STATESWOMAN " 

1 794- 1 797 

STATESWOMAN " is Swift's term for Stella. 
It fits better the Trilby of the political studio. 
The muse as medium was already being trans- 
ferred from attitude to affairs. 

Since Nelson's brief sojourn and its keen impress, 
the Queen, under growing troubles, leaned more and 
more on the English. The King's pro-Spanish faction 
was now defied; even the pro-Austrian group lost 
ground and flagged. Acton, save for a brief interval, 
remained her right hand — hie, hcec, et hoc et omnia, as 
they now styled him. The Hamiltons' enthusiasm for 
the budding hero had communicated itself through 
Emma to her royal friend, who had hitherto cared little 
even for the English language. Maria Carolina clung 
more closely to a consoler not only responsive and di- 
verting, but unversed enough in courts to be flattered 
by the intimacy and free in it. They were constantly 
together; by 1795 so often as every other day. It 
was " naturalness " and " sensibility " once more that 
prevailed. Doubtless, policy entered also into her 
motives. Notes to Emma would pass unsuspected 
where notes to Sir William might be watched. Verbal 
confidences to a frequenter of the palace would never 
excite the curiosity which Sir William's formal pres- 
ence must arouse. But the bond of policy was mutual. 
Hamilton encouraged his wife to glean secret in- 

157 



158 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

formation for the British Government. What the 
Queen did not at first realise, though afterwards she 
recognised it to the full, was Lady Hamilton's " native 
energy of mind " which Hayley, comforting her after 
Nelson's death, recalled as one of her earliest char- 
acteristics; and for the work of life, as has been truly 
said, inborn vigour is apter than cultivated refine- 
ment. 

Emma now definitely emerges as patriot and poli- 
tician. Did she aspire thus early to help her country ? 
The field of controversy begins to open, and con- 
troversy is always irksome. It is necessary, however, 
at this juncture, to consider this first of Emma's 
" claims " in its context. 

In her latest memorial for the recognition of her 
" services " — her petition to the Prince Regent of 1813 
— she claimed to have responded to the then Sir John 
Jervis's appeals for help while employed upon the re- 
duction of Corsica. In this statement, which is one of 
several, she makes some confusion between two names 
influential in two successive years. If such lapses as 
these stood alone, without substantial evidence beneath 
them, her censors might have been fairly justified in 
pressing them to the utmost. But since (as will be 
shown) there is strong corroboration of the substance 
of her services in 1796, considerable proof of her main 
service in 1798, with abundant new and historical evi- 
dence for her truthfulness in the account of the part 
played by her in the royal escape just before Christmas 
of the same year — they amount to little more than the 
immaterial inaccuracies which recur in several of her 
recitals. Her critics, in fixing on the memorial to the 
Prince Regent — framed in her declining years and her 
extremest need — have consistently ignored her other 
applications for relief, and especially that to King 
George III. in which she does not specify this claim 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 159 

at all, but only implies it under " many inferior 
services." 

In her " Prince Regent " memorial she urges that 
" In the year 1793, when Lord Hood had taken pos- 
session of Toulon, and Sir John Jervis was employ'd 
upon the reduction of Corsica, the latter kept writing 
to me for everything he wanted which I procured to be 
promptly provided him; and, as his letters to me prove, 
had considerably facilitated the reduction of that island. 
I had by this time induced the King through my in- 
fluence with the Queen to become so zealous in the 
good cause, that both would often say I had de-Bour- 
boniz'd them and made them English." 

In the same " memorial " she mentions a side-cir- 
cumstance which can now be fully substantiated. She 
there asserts that Sir William in his " latter moments, 
in deputing Mr. Greville to deliver the Order of the 
Bath to the King, desired that he would tell His 
Majesty that he died in the confident hope that his pen- 
sion would be continued to me for my zeal and service." 
Greville's letter of 1803 more than bears out her 
veracity in this trifle. Greville himself, the precisest of 
officials, and just after his uncle's death by no means 
on the best of terms with Lady Hamilton, added that 
he knew that the public " records " confirmed " the 
testimony of their Sicilian Majesties by letter as well 
as by their ministers, of circumstances peculiarly dis- 
tinguished and honourable to her, and at the same time 
of high importance to the public service." Hamilton's 
own share in the many transactions which are to follow 
passed equally disregarded with his widow's. And 
with regard to the preliminary " service " which we 
must now discuss, she repeats her asseveration in al- 
most the last letter that she ever wrote, adding that in 
this case, as in the others, she paid " often and often 
out of her own pocket at Naples." 



160 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

As has been recounted, Hood took Toulon in 
August, 1793. It had to be evacuated on December 
17th of that year; and it was Lord Hood, not the 
future Lord St. Vincent, who superintended the Cor- 
sican operations from the December of 1793 to their 
issue in Nelson's heroism at Calvi in July, 1794. Sir 
John Jervis, on the other hand, was in command of 
the West Indian expedition of 1794. He does not, it 
is true, figure as corresponding with the Hamiltons on 
naval affairs until 1798, when, in an interesting cor- 
respondence, he thanks her for services as " patroness 
of the navy," protests his " unfeigned affectionate re- 
gard," and signs himself her " faithful and devoted 
knight." But none the less he was (and this has 
eluded notice) in close correspondence with Acton 
throughout the early portion of 1796. 

Such, then, in this instance, are the material dis- 
crepancies. In dwelling long afterwards on her first 
endeavours for her country, she transposed the 
sequence of two successive years, while she confounded 
Lord Hood and the future Lord St. Vincent together. 
Little sagacity, however, is needed to perceive that 
these very confusions point to her sincerity. Had she 
been forging claims, imperatively raised in the ex- 
tremities of her fate, nothing would have been easier 
than to have verified these trifles, especially as many 
of Nelson's friends remained staunch to her till the 
close. Wilful liars do not concoct and elaborate evi- 
dence manifestly against themselves. For the truth of 
this, the least important and most general of her 
services, Acton's manuscript correspondence of these 
years with Hamilton supplies a new presumption. 
What England wanted during these two years from the 
Neapolitan premier was something outside and be- 
yond what her treaty with Sicily enabled her, as a fact, 
to receive, and it was just these extras that Emma's 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 161 

rising ascendency with the Queen and her own am- 
bition may have prompted her to procure. 

The real pretexts for refusal, as we shall find in their 
proper place, were not scepticism, but royal disfavour, 
technical precedent, lapse of time, private pique, and 
party interest. Canning thought her " richly entitled " 
to compensation. Grenville himself did not deny the 
performance of her services. Addington grounded 
his refusal mainly on the multiplicity of other claims 
on the Government. 

The year 1794 at Naples was one of continuous 
calamity; while successive catastrophes were height- 
ened by the undoubted tyrannies of the Queen. France, 
by fomenting the Neapolitan ferment, was deliberately 
inveigling the two Sicilies. No quarter would Maria 
Carolina give to the French assassins or to the Neapol- 
itan republicans. Hitherto, in the main, her old clem- 
ency had found vent, and she had striven to be just. 
She still deemed justice her motive, but she deceived 
herself. While the King always remained optimist, 
her pessimism verged on madness. She treated affairs 
of State just as if they had been affairs of the heart. 
Her mistrust both of the conspiring nobles and the 
thankless students, now, from changed incentives, in 
attempted combination, showed signs of yielding to a 
paroxysm of revenge disguised by an inscrutable face. 
Robespierre was branded on her brain. Her word for 
every rebellious aristocrat was " We will not give him 
time to become a Robespierre." The close of the year 
witnessed Robespierre's doom, and a false lull brought 
with it a film of security. Yet the signal baseness now 
confronting her would have justified a moderate sever- 
ity. Disaffection was not native but imported. The 
great mass of the people never wavered in allegiance 
to the King of the Lazzaroni, and agitation was bought 



162 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

and manipulated by France. The rest of Europe 
recognised the real significance of these insurrections. 
" God knows," wrote Nelson to the Hamiltons in 1796, 
" I only feel for the King of Naples, as I am con- 
fident the change in his Government would be sub- 
versive of the interest of all Europe." The English 
Government, the Russian, even the Prussian, felt the 
same. The Queen, who had really done so much in 
the teeth of sharp difficulties for the " Intellectuels," 
was beside herself. Jacobinism, at first narrowed to a 
faction, afterwards, at the worst, diffused as a leaven, 
was by this time hydra-headed. Its disorders had 
spread to Sicily, where their suppression had been sig- 
nalised by the execution of the ringleaders and the im- 
prisonment of three hundred. By the spring of 1795 
the French had divulged their determination of at- 
tacking the British squadron in the Mediterranean. 
The receivers of her most generous bounty bit the hand 
of their benefactress. Luigi di Medici, the young 
cavalier on whom she had conferred absolute power, 
was denounced by a mathematical professor. As 
" Regente della Vicaria " he was tried by the last nov- 
elty in tribunals, an invention of Acton. Besides ouier 
old hands like the inevitable Prince Pignatelli, it 
consisted of three principal assessors — Guidobaldi, a 
judge ; Prince Castelcicala, a prop always trusted ; and 
lastly Vanni, a man of the people, a " professional " 
whom the Queen had actually made Marquis. This 
trio was nicknamed " Cerberus." It was the reverse 
of former experiments : for the first time two mem- 
bers of the disaffected " professionals " were admitted 
into the bureaucracy. Vanni, a miniature Marat, who 
well merited his subsequent downfall, dictated; and his 
dictatorship stank in the nostrils of all Italy as " the 
white terror of Naples." Di Medici had himself 
headed a fresh conspiracy — for the King's murder — 




Lady Hamilton as Circe. 
From the original fainting by George Romney. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 163 

which for a long time simmered in the political caldron. 
He was imprisoned in the fortress of Gaeta, to re- 
appear, however, a few years later as a pardoned 
protege. Prince Caramanico, despatched after Sici- 
gniano's sad suicide to the Embassy in London, died be- 
fore starting, with the usual suspicion of poison. The 
execution in the " Mercato Vecchio " of the cultivated 
Tommaso Amato, who was deprived even of supreme 
unction, lent its first horror to the notorious death- 
chamber of the " Capella della Vicaria," and was soon 
followed by that of sixty more Jacobins. The cause 
of " order and religion " was publicly pitted against 
these damnable heresies. Even communications with 
the self-styled " Patriots " were to be punished. It 
was decreed treason for more than ten to assemble, 
save by license. The judges, it is true, were bidden 
to be " conscientious in equity and justice," but three 
witnesses sufficed for the death-sentence. Apart from 
capital sentences, the castles and prisons were crammed 
with suspects, so much so that those of Brindisi were 
requisitioned. Massacres desolated Sicily; blood ran 
in the Neapolitan streets. Ferdinand, who had been 
amusing himself by lengthened law-suits with the 
Prince of Tarsia over a silk monopoly, called on the 
clergy to expose the " French errors " ; and at Naples 
devotion and disaster ever trod closely on each other's 
heels. Three days of solemn prayer were once more 
decreed in the Metropolitan Church of St. Januarius. 
Both King and Queen were perpetually seen in devout 
attendance at the principal shrines. The pulpits 
preached " death to the French," and war against 
Jacobinism was declared religious. To be a " patriot " 
(an innocent fault in palmier days) was now sacrilege. 
A fresh eve of St. Bartholomew was feared. In a 
word, the methods of crushing rebellion and opinion 

were eminently southern, but they were also a counter- 
Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 6 



164 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

blast to equal barbarities in the north. Save for the 
sansculottes and their propaganda, Naples would have 
escaped the fever and remained a drowsy castle of con- 
tented indolence. 

While, as queen, Maria Carolina cowed the city, as 
woman she was demented by Buonaparte's Italian vic- 
tories. Naples, alone of all Italy, still defied him. 
The Neapolitan royalties — to their honour — sacrificed 
fortune and jewels to dare the new Alexander. At 
the same time, they called on both nobles and ecclesi- 
astics to emulate their public spirit, and thereby uncon- 
sciously did much to hasten the " patriot " insurrection. 
One hundred and three thousand ducats were de- 
manded from the town, one hundred and twenty thou- 
sand from the nobles; church property was alienated. 
Everything was seized for the common cause. The 
news of Nelson's heroism and the English triumph in 
Corsica was received with rapture. And the Neapol- 
itan troops on this occasion shamed the general 
cowardice. By 1795 Prince Moliterno was acclaimed 
a national hero; the courage of General Cuto's three 
regiments in the Tyrol raised the Neapolitan name, 
while Mantua and Rome showed the white feather and 
necessitated the onerous peace of Brescia. 

It may now be guessed what agitated the Queen's 
bosom as day by day she sat down to pen her French 
missives to Emma, and what were the feelings natur- 
ally instilled in Emma by Hamilton, Nelson's letters, 
and the Queen. The Jacobin cause was the prime pest 
of Europe, to be crushed at all costs; Napoleon, an 
impudent upstart and usurper; the Neapolitan rebels, 
monsters of ingratitude and treachery. All these con- 
victions were as binding as articles of faith. Emma's 
own heart was tender to a fault. She detested blood- 
shed and liked to use her influence for mercy, as, to 
do her bare justice, was then the Queen's instinct, after 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 165 

the first spasm had passed. In Emma's eyes the Queen 
herself, so kind and good at home, so sincere and 
friendly, was " adorable." She could do no wrong. 
The past peccadilloes of this baffling woman, contrast- 
ing with her present domesticity, seemed to her, even 
if she believed them, merely a royal prerogative. She 
was — as Emma assured Greville in a letter congratulat- 
ing him on his new vice-chamberlainship, " Every- 
thing one can wish — the best mother, wife, and freind 
in the world. I live constantly with her, and have 
done intimately so for 2 years, and I never have in all 
that time seen anything but goodness and sincerity in 
her, and if ever you hear any lyes about her, contradict 
them, and if you shou'd see a cursed book written by 
a vile French dog, with her character in it, don't be- 
lieve one word." Hours passed with her were " en- 
chantment." " No person can be so charming as the 
Queen. If I was her daughter she could not be 
kinder to me, and I love her with my whole soul." As 
she grew more influential on the stirring scene she 
caught and exaggerated her royal friend's effusiveness. 
" Oh that everyone," is her endorsement on a letter, 
" could know her as I do, they would esteem her as I 
do from my soul. May every good attend her and 
hers." Thus Ruth, of Naomi. From such a friend 
impartiality was no more to be expected than from 
such enemies as the " vile French dogs." 

The Queen's correspondence x with Emma opens 
earlier with a touching note about the fate of the poor 
Dauphin; a sweet little portrait still remains under its 
cover. This innocent child, she wrote, implores a sig- 

1 Most of her letters of this and the next five years are 
transcribed from the various Egerton MS. by R. Palumbo in 
his Maria Carolina and Emma Hamilton, which to much valuable 
material adds some of the old rumours about her earlier and 
later life. 



166 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

nal vengeance for the massacre of his parents before 
the Eternal Throne. His afflictions " have renewed 
wounds that will never heal." In January, 1794, a 
fete was given by the Hamiltons to Prince Augustus. 
It was a golden occasion for fanning the English fever, 
which by now had spread throughout the loyalist ranks. 
The Queen's letter of that afternoon begged the 
hostess to tell her company " God save great George 
our King," rejoiced over the Anglo-Sicilian alliance, 
and sent her compliments to all the English present. 
In the following June she exulted over George's speech 
to Parliament renewing the war. She longed for 
English news from Toulon. At his fete two years 
later, she was to protest that she loved the British 
prince as a son. She was perpetually anxious about 
Emma's health and prescribing remedies. As for her 
own " old health," it was not worth her young friend's 
disquietude. When Sir William lay at death's door 
she bade her " put confidence in God, who never for- 
sakes those who trust in Him," and count on the 
" sincere friendship " of her " attached friend." 
Emma's performances she applauded to the skies, espe- 
cially that of " Nina," which had been Romney's 
favourite. 

In one of her constant billets she tenderly inquired 
after " ce cher aimable bienfaisant eveque " — the flip- 
pant but kindly worldling and " Right Reverend Father 
in God " (as Beckford terms him) Lord Bristol, Bishop 
of Derry. Of this odd wit, erratic vagrant and senti- 
mental scapegrace, so typical of a century that in- 
cluded both Horace Walpole and Laurence Sterne — a 
veritable Gallio-in-gaiters, with his whimsical projects 
for endless improvements, his connoisseurship, his rest- 
lessness, his real pluck and independence, we have al- 
ready caught glimpses in eccentric attire at Caserta. 
One of his queerest features was the blended care 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 167 

and carelessness both of money and family. Attached 
to his devoted and economical daughter Louisa, he 
quarrelled with his son for not marrying an heiress. 
His bitterest reproach against his old wife was that 
she disbelieved " in the current coin of the realm." 
Lady Hamilton thus at this time described him to 
Greville : " He is very fond of me, and very kind. 
He is very entertaining and dashes at everything. Nor 
does he mind King and Queen when he is inclined to 
shew his talents." The French victories were soon 
to be fatal to the esprit moqueur, and to cool his volatile 
impatience for some eighteen months within the 
clammy walls of a Milanese fortress. Besides his 
autographs in the Morrison Collection, and two now 
belonging to the writer, a few letters from him to 
Emma exist in that surreptitious edition of the pilfered 
Nelson Letters which, in 18 14, were to add one more 
drop to her cup of bitterness. They all show that he 
purveyed information, both serious and scandalous, 
through Emma to the Queen. They stamp the in- 
triguer, the patriot, and the friend. The first seems 
written among the embroilments of 1793. 

The sale and purchase of antiquities absorbed him 
like Sir William; unlike the Ambassador, he never 
shirked labour, but rather meddled officiously with the 
departments over which his leisurely friend had been 
up to now so disposed to loiter. In 1793 he is to be 
found spying on the spies who misled " the dear, dear 
Queen." At the opening, too, of 1794, he forwards 
Venetian secrets to be communicated " a la premiere 
des femmes, cette mmtresse femme." " I have been 
in bed," he adds, " these four weeks with what is called 
a flying gout, but were it such it would be gone long 
ago, and it hovers round me like a ghost round its 
sepulchre." In 1795 again the nomad was at Berlin 
routing out State-secrets. The date of the following 



168 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

must be that of the shameful Austrian treaties in 
1797 which succeeded the galling peace of Brescia. 

" My ever dearest Lady Hamilton, — I should 
certainly have made this Sunday an holy day to me, and 
have taken a Sabbath day's journey to Caserta, had not 
poor Mr. Lovel been confined to his bed above three 
days with a fever. To-day it is departed; to-morrow 
Dr. Nudi has secured us from its resurrection; and 
after to-morrow, I hope, virtue will be its own reward. 
. . . All public and private accounts agree in the im- 
mediate prospect of a general peace. It will make a 
delicious foreground in the picture of the new year; 
many of which I wish, from the top, bottom, and 
centre of my heart, to the incomparable Emma — quella 
senza paragone." The next snatch is worth quoting 
for its humour : — " I went down to your opera-box 
two minutes after you left; and should have seen you 
on the morning of your departure — but was detained in 
the arms of Murphy, as Lady Eden expresses it, and 
was too late. You say nothing of the adorable Queen ; 
I hope she has not forgot me. ... I veritably deem 
her the very best edition of a woman I ever saw — I 
mean of such as are not in folio. . . . My duties ob- 
struct my pleasure. . . . You see, I am but the sec- 
ond letter of your alphabet, though you are the first of 
mine." 

A last extract, penned a few months after his libera- 
tion, must complete this vignette : — " I know not, dear- 
est Emma, whether friend Sir William has been able 
to obtain my passport or not; but this I know — that 
if they have refused it, they are damned fools for their 
pains : for never was a Malta orange better worth 
squeezing or sucking; and if they leave me to die, with- 
out a tombstone over me to tell the contents — tant pis 
pour eux. In the meantime, I will frankly confess 
to you that my health most seriously and urgently re- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 169 

quires the balmy air of dear Naples, and the more 
balmy atmosphere of those I love, and who love me; 
and that I shall forego my garret with more regret 
than most people of my silly rank in society forego 
a palace or a drawing-room." He then sketched his 
tour on horseback to " that unexplored region Dal- 
matia " ; he described Spalato as " a modern city built 
within the precincts of an ancient palace." Spalato 
reminded him of Diocletian, the " wise sovereign who 
quitted the sceptre of an architect's rule," and the two 
together, of a new project for a " packet-boat in these 
perilous times between Spalato and Manfredonia." 

The serious debut of Emma as " Stateswoman " (in 
the sense of England's spokeswoman at Naples) chimes 
with the episode of the King of Spain's secret letters 
heralding and announcing his rapture with the anti- 
French alliance during 1795 and 1796. But before 
dealing with that crisis, I may be pardoned for glanc- 
ing at one more picturesque figure among Emma's sur- 
roundings — that of Wilhelmina, Countess of Lich- 
tenau. 

She was nobly born and bred ; but in girlhood, under 
a broken promise, it would seem, of morganatic mar- 
riage, had become mistress and intellectual companion 
of Frederick, King of Prussia — a tie countenanced by 
her mother. Political intrigue drove her from Berlin 
to Italy, as it afterwards involved her in despair and 
ruin. She was cultivated, artistic, sensitive, and un- 
happy. She became the honoured correspondent of 
many distinguished statesmen and authors. Lavater 
and Arthur Paget were her firm friends, as also the 
luckless Alexandre Sauveur, already noticed in his 
" hermitage " on Mount Vesuvius. Lord Bristol, 
naturally, knelt at her shrine. In her Memoires she 
frankly admits that she (like Emma) was vain; but 
maintains that all women are so by birthright. Lovel, 



170 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the parson friend of the Bishop of Deny, used to sign 
himself her " brother by adoption," and address her as 
" a very dear sister " ; Paget corresponded with her as 
" dear Wilhelmina." Throughout 1795 she was at 
Naples, where her cicisbeo was the handsome Chevalier 
de Saxe, afterwards killed in a duel with the Russian 
M. SabofL A letter from him towards the close of 
this year of Neapolitan enthusiasm for the English, 
when the Elliots among others were praising and ap- 
plauding Emma to the skies, describes the great ball 
given by Lady Plymouth in celebration of Prince 
Augustus's birthday. The supper was one of enthusi- 
asm and " God save the King." " They drank," he 
chronicles, "a VAnglaise: the toasts were noisy, and 
the healths of others were so flattered as to derange our 
own." Sir William was constantly begging of her to 
forward the sale of his collections at the Russian cap- 
ital; nor was tea, now fashionable at court, the least 
agent for English interests. Emma herself had be- 
come the " fair tea-maker " of the Chiaja instead of, 
as once, of Edgware Row, and Mrs. Cadogan too held 
her own tea-parties. Emma often corresponded with 
the beautiful Countess, and one of her letters of this 
period, not here transcribed, supplies evidence of what 
kind of French she had learned to write by a period 
when she had mastered not only Neapolitan patois but 
Spanish and Italian. At the troublous outset of 1796 
Wilhelmina quitted Italy never to return. 

These characters are scarcely edifying. The scoff- 
ing Bishop, the frail Countess, however, were a typ- 
ical outcome of sincere reaction against hollow and 
hypocritical observance. There was nothing diabolical 
about them. The virtues that they professed, they 
practised; their faults, those of free thinkers and free 
livers, do not differentiate them from their contem- 
poraries. It is surely remarkable that these, and such 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 171 

as these, paved the way for Nelson's vindication of 
Great Britain in the Mediterranean, far more than 
the train of decent frivolity and formal virtue that did 
nothing without distinction. High Bohemia has al- 
ways wielded some power in the world. Far more 
was it a force when the French Revolution threatened 
the very foundations of society, and opened up ave- 
nues to every sort of adventure and adventurer. 

Emma has already been found twice acquainting 
Greville of her new metier as politician. Her present 
circumstances and influence over the Queen may be 
gauged independently by a letter from her husband 
to his nephew from Caserta of November, which has 
only recently passed into the national collection : — 

". . . Here we are as usual for the winter hunting 
and shooting season, and Emma is not at all dis- 
pleased to retire with me at times from the great world, 
altho' no one is better received when she chuses to go 
into it. The Queen of Naples seems to have great 
pleasure in her society. She sends for her generally 
three or four times a week. ... In fact, all goes well 
chez notes. [He is taking more exercise.] . . . I have 
not neglected of my duty, and flatter myself that I 
must be approved of at home for some real services 
which my particular situation at this court has en- 
abled me to render to our Ministry. I have at least the 
satisfaction of feeling that I have done all in my power, 
altho' at the expense of my own health and fortune." 
This last sentence points to the political situation, and 
Emma's assistance in the episode of the King of 
Spain's letters; for not one, but a whole series were 
involved. 

These letters, from 1795 to J 796, were the secret 
channels by which Ferdinand was made aware first of 
his brother's intention to desert the Alliance, and, in 
the next year, to join the enemy. 



172 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

In touching the effects and causes of an event so 
critical, Emma's pretensions to a part in its discovery- 
must be discussed also. Their consideration, inter- 
rupting the sequence of our narrative, will not affect its 
movement. It is no dry recital, for it concerns events 
and character. 

From 1795 to the opening of 1797 the league against 
Napoleon, as thrones and principalities one by one tot- 
tered before him, was faced by rising republics and 
defecting allies. In vain were Wurmser and the 
Neapolitan troops to rally the Romagna. In vain did 
Nelson recount to the Hamiltons Hood's and Hotham's 
successes along the Italian coast. Acton's own letters 
of about this period complain of the Austrian delays 
and suspicions. Prussia estranged herself from the 
banded powers. England herself was, for a moment, 
ready to throw up the sponge. In 1795, so great was 
the popular fear of conflict, that prints in every Lon- 
don shop window represented the blessings of peace 
and the horrors of war. Even in the October of 1796 
Nelson told the Hamiltons, with a wrathful sigh, " We 
have a narrow-minded party to work against, but I feel 
above it." And writing from Bastia in December, 
1796, he was again indignant at the orders for the 
evacuation of the Mediterranean, which plunged the 
Queen in despair. " Till this time," commented the 
true patriot, " it has been usual for the allies of Eng- 
land to fall from her, but till now she never was 
known to desert her friends whilst she had the power 
of supporting them." 

The home explosion had been arrested; Neapolitan 
discontent had been appeased; but the frauds of the 
corn-contractor, Mackinnon, added knavery to increas- 
ing fiscal embarrassments. And Naples was soon to 
become involved in a mesh of degrading treaties. The 
Peace of Brescia, enforcing her neutrality and mulcting 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 173 

her of eight million francs, sounded the first note of 
Austrian retreat. It culminated by 1797 in the shame- 
ful treaties of Campoformio and Tolentino, which 
eventually bound Austria to cry off. By the close of 
1796 the distraught Queen raved over a separate and 
partly secret compact exacted by France — the most 
galling condition of which excluded more than four 
vessels of the allies at one time from any Neapolitan 
or Sicilian port — a proviso critical in 1798. By 1797 
Naples was forced to acknowledge the French Cisalpine 
Republic, and France had gained the natural frontiers 
of the Alps and the Rhine. Buonaparte returned to 
Paris covered with glory. In a single campaign he 
had defeated five armies, and won eighteen pitched bat- 
tles and sixty-seven smaller combats. He had made 
one hundred and fifty thousand prisoners. He had 
freed eighteen states. He had rifled Italy of her 
statues, pictures, and manuscripts. For his adopted 
country's arsenals he had pillaged eleven hundred and 
eighty pieces of artillery, and fifty-one muniments for 
her harbours; while no less than two hundred million 
francs were secured for her treasuries. 

But a worse defection than Prussia's or Austria's 
was that of Spain, which fell like a bomb on the coali- 
tion against France, and which, as Emma alleged, first 
brought her on the political stage to the knowledge of 
the English Ministry. 

Her claim, and Nelson's for her, differing in dates, 
since there were several transactions, was that her 
friendship with the Queen obtained the loan of a secret 
document addressed by the Spanish monarch to the 
King of Naples, and forewarning him of his intention 
to ally himself with France, a copy of which she got 
forwarded to London. 

This sendee has been more questioned by Professor 
Laughton than by Mr. Jeaffreson, who, however, 



174 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

doubts some particulars in her account of this obscure 
matter, and her direct initiative in it. Whatever its 
subsequent embroidery, Emma's contention, certified by 
Nelson, nor ever denied by the truthful Hamilton, is 
favoured by its likelihood. At the very outset, any 
subsidiary objection raised as to the improbability that 
an important despatch in cipher would have been en- 
trusted to her keeping, falls at once to the ground, since 
there exists such a document in her own handwriting 
among the Morrison autographs; * while in the Queen's 
correspondence occurs more than one mention of a 
cipher transmitted to her. But, indeed, neither in her 
memorial of 1813 to the Prince of Wales, nor in that 
other to the King, nor in Nelson's last codicil, is a 
" ciphered letter " mentioned. The first document 
styles it only a " private letter." The last two agree 
in calling it the King of Spain's letter " expressive of " 
or " acquainting him with " his " intention of declar- 
ing war against England." Such pains perhaps need 
hardly have been bestowed to identify the document 
meant, with the celebrated cipher of Galatone, which 
the Queen handed to Emma in the spring of 1795. 
Some circumstantial evidence may favour the view 
that the substance of her claim relates to information 
sent home in autumn 1796, the year specified by Nel- 
son's last codicil, by his conversation at Dresden in 
1800, and on many other occasions. 

Roughly speaking, the facts are these. 

From the opening of the year 1795 to the autumn of 
1796 the Neapolitan Ambassador at Madrid (in 1795 
" Galatone," Prince Belmonte) was in constant com- 
munication, both open and secret, with the King, 
Queen, and Gallo, then foreign minister; and in such 

1 Morrison MS. 259. Transcript (in Italian) in Lady Hamil- 
ton's handwriting of a letter (in cipher) to the Foreign Minister 
of Naples. Dated Aranjuez, March 31, 1796. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 175 

cases official letters, which are naturally guarded, 
should be carefully distinguished from private in- 
formation surreptitiously conveyed. From the mo- 
ment that the French Directory replaced the Reign of 
Terror in Thermidor, 1794, and represented itself un- 
der the dazzling triumphs of Napoleon as a stable, if 
epicier, Government, Spain had been steadily smooth- 
ing the way for wriggling out of the Anti-Gallic Coali- 
tion, the more so as she longed to try conclusions with 
Great Britain in partnership with France, whom she 
had hitherto been bound to attack. For this purpose — 
as Acton's manuscript letters attest — she sought to 
bully Naples, first out of the Anti-Gallic league, and 
subsequently, in 1797, out of enforced neutrality. She 
still considered her navy powerful, although through- 
out 1795 Nelson derided it as worse than useless. Her 
Florentine envoy wrote insolently in. the autumn of 
1795 that it was of no consequence that the English 
flag was flaunted in Mediterranean waters; the real 
Spanish objective ought to be Cuba, Porto Rico, St. 
Domingo. Tradition, national pride, and inclination 
all united in her effort gradually and insidiously to pre- 
pare a breach with the allied powers and a rapproche- 
ment with France. 

During these long negotiations both Acton and Ham- 
ilton were kept in designed ignorance by the King, who, 
under his inherited bias for Spanish influence, rejoiced 
to think that he was now at last his own minister, out- 
witting and emancipated from his thwarted Queen. 
Maria Carolina, however, had provided her own chan- 
nels of information also. All that she could ferret out 
was carefully communicated to Lady Hamilton, and 
forwarded, under strict pledges not to compromise by 
naming her, to Lord Grenville in London. 

There are two distinct sets of the correspondence be- 
tween Hamilton and Acton and Acton and Hamilton — 



176 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

that of spring and early summer, 1795, relative to the 
Spanish peace with France achieved in July, the project 
for which, however, had leaked out long before; and 
that of late summer and autumn, 1796, regarding 
Spain's much more secret and momentous decision to 
strike a definite alliance, offensive as well as defensive, 
with the enemy of Europe. 

It was in connection with the latter that Nelson's last 
codicil claimed Emma's assistance in divulging it to 
the ministers, while he regretted the opportunities 
missed by their failure to improve the occasion. Lady 
Hamilton's last memorial assigns no specific date, 
though her brief narrative there confuses (as usual) 
the peace and the alliance together. The evidence 
points to a possibility of her having been twice in- 
strumental in procuring documents weighty for both 
these emergencies; but her main exertion, as Nelson 
averred, was bound up with the last. Professor 
Laughton's acumen bears most strongly upon the let- 
ters of 1795, though at the same time he supplies and 
discusses the data for 1796. To his article the stu- 
dent is referred. Both he and Mr. Jeaffreson fasten 
upon her statement in the " Prince Regent " memorial 
alone, 1 and have not considered her undecorated and 

1 These are its words : — " By unceasing application of that 
influence " — i. e. with the Queen — " and no less watchfulness to 
turn it to my country's good, it happened that I discovered a 
courier had brought the King of Naples a private letter from 
the King of Spain. I prevailed on the Queen to take it from 
his pocket unseen. We found it to contain the King of Spain's 
intention to withdraw from the Coalition, and join the French 
against England. My husband at that time lay dangerously ill. 
I prevailed on the Queen to allow my taking a copy, with which 
I immediately despatched a messenger to Lord Grenville, taking 
all the necessary precautions ; for his safe arrival then became 
very difficult, and altogether cost me about £400 paid out of my 
privy purse." — Cf. Morrison MS. 1046, where the date con- 
jectured "March, 1813 " tallies with her letter in the Rose diaries 
inclosing it. 

Her memorial to the King contains a simpler statement 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 177 

simple account tallying with Nelson's in her memorial 
to the King. I beg the reader's patient attention to 
the wording of both of these, below cited. 

It is clear from the first that Emma in treating of 
two years mixes up the documents which she admit- 
tedly obtained from the Queen and delivered to Ham- 
ilton for transmission both in April and June, 1795, 
with one of several that she obtained in 1796. No 
single " letter " could have comprised both the rupture 
with the alliance and the compact with France, be- 
longing respectively to two successive years. On April 
28, 1795, the Queen sent her a ciphered letter from 
Galatone, demanding its return " before midnight." 
Next day she sent her " the promised cipher," " too 
glad in being able to render a service." Emma re- 
corded on her copy of the first that her husband for- 
warded it with the cipher to England. 

It is open, however, to argument that Emma's chief 
aid in unravelling a long and tangled skein of matur- 
ing crisis may have been rendered about September, 
1796. Its history will resume our thread; and, since 
the next chapter's evidence is to support not only her 
crowning service with regard to the Mediterranean 

"That it was the good fortune of your Majesty's memorialist to 
acquire the confidential friendship of that great and august 
Princess, the Queen of Naples, your Majesty's most faithful and 
ardently attached Ally, at a period of peculiar peril, and when 
her august Consort . . . was unhappily constrained to profess 
a neutrality, but little in accordance with the feelings of his 
own excellent heart. By which means your Majesty's memorial- 
ist, among many inferior services, had an opportunity of ob- 
taining, and actually did obtain, the King of Spain's letter to the 
King of Naples expressive of his intention to declare war against 
England. This important document, your Majesty's memorialist 
delivered to her husband, Sir William Hamilton, who im- 
mediately transmitted it to your Majesty's Ministers." This as- 
sertion tallies with Nelson's. There is no proof of the date of 
this paper, which in the Morrison MS. (1045) is guessed to be 
identical with that of the " Prince Regent " memorial above 
transcribed. 



178 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

fleet, but the substantial accuracy of her two statements 
of it, it is worth while in this matter also to inquire 
somewhat closely whether Emma was a liar, and Nel- 
son a dupe. 

Two Acton manuscripts towards the end of August, 
1796, cast a sidelight on the numerous letters of that 
year from the Spanish court, culminating in some kind 
of announcement by the Spanish King to his brother 
of Naples of his final decision to join the French. 

Acton vied amicably with Hamilton in obtaining 
the first advices for transmission to London; and 
indeed to Acton's penchant (like our own Harley's un- 
der Queen Anne) for engrossing business and favour 
Nelson afterwards referred in a letter to Lady Ham- 
ilton, where he declares that he will no longer " get 
everything done " through Acton, as was his " old 
way." Both Acton and Wyndham, England's envoy 
at Leghorn, were already aware of Spain's tentatives 
with France ; but neither they nor the English Ambas- 
sador at Madrid could have discovered till later the 
precise terms of a coming alliance, vital to Europe. It 
would press the more on Naples, in view of that un- 
dignified and stringent accommodation with the French 
Directory, into which the Franco-Hispanian con- 
spiracy, after a brief armistice, was fast driving her 
reluctant councils. For months Prince Belmonte 
(transferred from Madrid to Paris) had been dangling 
his heels as negotiator in the French capital, subjected 
to insolent demands and mortifying delays and 
chicanes. From the spring of 1796 onwards a series 
of threatening letters had been received by Ferdinand 
from Charles; and all the time the pro-Spanish party, 
designing a dethronement of the Neapolitan Bour- 
bons, kept even pace with Maria Carolina's hatred of 
a sister-in-law caballing for her son. Ferdinand him- 
self still clung to the Spanish raft; Charles of Spain 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 179 

was his brother, and blood is thicker than water. 
While England grew more and more faint-hearted, and 
Grenville forwarded despatch after despatch advising 
Naples to give up the game and make the best terms 
available with the Directory; while Napoleon's vic- 
tories swelled the republicanisation of Italy, the Span- 
ish plot also for sapping Great Britain's Mediterranean 
power, and overthrowing the dynasty of the Two 
Sicilies, increased in strength. Yet the King of Na- 
ples still temporised. For a space even Acton veered ; 
he listened to Gallo and the King, the more readily be- 
cause his own post was endangered in 1795, when there 
had been actual rumours of his replacement by Gallo. 
In 1796 he saw no way out but the sorry compromise 
with France, which he half desired, and the enforced 
neutrality which disgusted Naples in December. Milan 
had fallen. Piedmont had been Buonaparte's latest 
democratic experiment. The Austrians, led by Wurm- 
ser, were failing in combat, as their court by the 
first month of the next year was to fail in faith. 
Naples was fast being isolated both from Italy and 
Britain ; small wonder then that through Acton's earlier 
letters of 1796 there peers a sour smile of cynical 
desperation. But directly he realised the full force of 
the Franco-Hispanian complot, and the stress of re- 
verses to the allied arms, he changed his ply. He 
avowed himself ready "to break the peace"; he re- 
joined and rejoiced the Queen; he again looked to 
England. As Grenville waxed colder, the more 
warmly did Acton compete with Hamilton in egging 
on the British Government by disclosing the hard facts 
detected. Hamilton, however, forestalled him. He, 
Emma, and the Queen had throughout been in frequent 
confabulation, while the Hamiltons were also in close 
correspondence with Nelson. But it was Emma, not 
her husband, that was daily closeted with Carolina, 



180 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

whose letters to the ambassadress prove how well she 
was informed of Spain's machinations. So early as 
June, 1793, we have seen Emma already politicising. 
In April, 1795, she reports once more to Greville: 
" Against my will, owing to my situation here, I am 
got into politics, and I wish to have news for my dear, 
much loved Queen whom I adore." She had already 
transcribed a ciphered communication from Spain as to 
King Charles's probable defection from the alliance. 
She now definitely advances towards the political foot- 
lights. 

The preceding year had settled the habit by which 
the Queen conveyed secret documents to the friend 
who as regularly copied or translated them for her hus- 
band. 1 So far the chief of these had been the " Chiffre 
de Galatone " transmitted to England at the close of 
April, 1795. 2 All of them, however, principally related 
to the Spanish peace with France then brewing in 
Madrid, of which the British Government had gained 
other advices from their representative at the Spanish 
court. That even this, however, was not quite a 

1 On April 21, 179S, for example, the Queen sends three papers 
" confidentially," " which may be useful to your husband." Cf. 
Professor Laughton's article in Colburn's United Service Maga- 
zine, April, 1889, and for the famous letter of April 28, cf. also 
Eg. MS. 1615, f. 22, containing another example. It is needless 
to multiply instances. One citation only will illustrate Emma's 
initiative. In Hamilton's despatch of April 30, 1795, he says, 
" However, Lady Hamilton having had the honour of seeing 
the Queen yesterday morning, H.M. was pleased to promise me 
one, etc." In another of the following year he speaks of docu- 
ments being " communicated " to him " as usual." 

2 Cf. Emma's copy of the Queen's note forwarding it to her, 
Eg. MS. 1615, f. 22, and Emma's reference to the courier and 
her having "got into politicks," April 19. Morrison MS. 263. 
On June 9 she copied another despatch from presumably Gala- 
tone (Prince Belmonte), ibid. 265. Later in the year the Queen 
communicated information about Spain and, in another letter, 
rumours about Hood having got out of Toulon, Eg. MS. 1617, 
ff. 3, 4- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 181 

secret de P olichinelle , is likely from the scarcity of 
references to it in the Acton correspondence with Ham- 
ilton about this time. Nor is it any answer to Emma's 
activities, even in this and less material years, that 
she voiced the Queen's urgent interest, because it is 
abundantly manifest that the Queen, in her need, did 
for Emma what she would never have done for Ham- 
ilton apart, while in return Emma doubtless com- 
municated also Nelson's Mediterranean information 
to Maria Carolina. She had suddenly become a safe 
and trusted go-between, and none other at this junc- 
ture could have performed her office. The supine Sir 
William had at last been pricked into action. He had 
now every incentive to earn the King of England's 
gratitude. In a private missive to Lord Grenville of 
April 30, 1795, alluding to the communication of this 
very " cipher of Galatone," he himself .asserts, " Your 
Lordship will have seen by my despatch of 21st April 
the unbounded confidence which the Queen of Naples 
has placed in me and my wife." Emma could now 
advantage not only herself and her country, but her 
royal friend and her own husband — Tria juncta in- 
line 

But the position in the later summer of 1796 was 
far more serious both for Naples and England than 
it had ever been before. Acton had been dallying. 
During the interval Ferdinand seems to have been 
pelted with letters from Charles, menacing, cajoling, 
persuading him. Already in August Hamilton had 
communicated secrets respecting the movements of the 
French and Spanish squadrons. Every one knew that 
Spanish retirement from the European Coalition was 
soon to be succeeded by some sort of league; but no- 
body, either at Naples or in England, could ascertain 
its exact conditions revealed to Ferdinand alone. If 
it was to be (as it was) an alliance of offence, the is- 



182 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

sues must prove momentous for Great Britain. All 
was kept a profound secret. 

About September, 1796, apparently, Charles the 
Fourth's final letter reached the hands of his Neapol- 
itan brother. But his coming alliance with France 
had already been notified by Acton to Hamilton. The 
murder was out. The compact between the two courts 
was fixed as one of war to the knife against the allied 
powers, among whom England was wavering and 
Austria on the verge of concluding a scandalous peace. 
Ferdinand, who alone knew what was impending, must 
have chuckled as he thought how he had worsted his 
masterful spouse. If Emma could only clear up the 
mystery, and the uncertainty, England might be fore- 
armed against the veiled sequel of that long train of 
hidden pourparlers which she had been able to dis- 
cover and announce during the previous year; and in 
such a case she counted with assurance on her coun- 
try's gratitude towards her and her husband. 

How the Queen or Emma, or both, obtained the loan 
of this document, whether out of the King's pocket, as 
Emma avers in her Prince Regent's memorial, and 
Pettigrew, with embellishments, in his Life of Nelson; 
or whether, according to the posthumous Memoirs of 
Lady Hamilton, through a bribed page, does not con- 
cern us. Such strokes of the theatre are, at any rate, 
quite consonant with the atmosphere of the court. 
The sole question is : Did she manage to receive and 
transmit it? 

The letter to which I apply her pretensions was in 
Spanish — a " private letter " or a " letter," as Emma 
and Nelson respectively describe it, and not a " letter 
in cipher " like the one received from Galatone in the 
year preceding. The problem's intricacy defies a real 
solution. In the main, habit and motive only can be 
urged for Emma's use of the Queen's friendship in 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 183 

this instance also. What she had done in the one year, 
she may well have done in the other. On the other 
hand, there is no definite document that she can be 
proved to have procured. 

Is there any distinct circumstance in her favour to 
counterweigh the hypotheses against her? One such 
exists of some weight. It relates to her statement that 
a messenger of her own was despatched with the docu- 
ment to London. 

Sir William Hamilton gave wind of the critical news 
in a " secret " despatch to Lord Grenville. It is dated 
September 21, 1796; and the bearer of it seems to have 
started on the 23rd. It should be observed that this 
official missive appears exceptional in only trans- 
mitting the purport of the letter, and not, as repeatedly 
before and afterwards, either copies of hazardous 
documents, or, in earlier cases, the originals them- 
selves. 

On this very September 21st the Queen of Naples 
wrote to thank Emma for putting at her service the 
unexpected medium of " the poor Count of Munster's 
courier," available through his employer's misfortune. 
She says that she and the General will profit by the 
opportunity, and that Emma shall receive " our 
packet" the day after to-morrow (mid-day, Friday). 
Acton, once more addressing Hamilton on September 
22, and before this special courier had started, begged 
him to include both his and the Queen's despatches 
to Circello, Ambassador at St. James's, " by the courier 
which goes to-morrow for London." 

On this identical September 21, 1796, once again 
Lady Hamilton herself sat down for a hurried chat 
with Greville. " We have not time," she says, " to 
write to you, as we have been 3 days and nights writing 
to send by this courrier letters of consequence for our 
Government. They ought to be gratefull to Sir Will- 



184 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

iam and myself in particular, as my situation in this 
Court is very extraordinary, and what no person [h]as 
yet arrived at." She adds, " He is our Courrier." 

The coincidence of these combined statements of two 
successive days suggests the " poor Count of Mini- 
ster's " courier as the possible bearer both of official 
despatches and of any copy of the King of Spain's most 
crucial declaration, that Emma may have made. 

It is only fair to state that another contingency pre- 
sents itself. Emma's service may really have amounted 
to little more than having been the means of procur- 
ing a prompt courier for this urgent despatch. If, 
however, she also got the original document, or even 
a copy, forwarded, Hamilton's omission to include it 
in his despatch Is explained. In any case it is material. 
He may have feared to do so, or she may not have 
been allowed to retain it long enough, in which case 
Emma could truthfully describe his brief summary of 
its pith as the King of Spain's letter. 

Professor Laughton has urged with force that no 
Treasury minute relating to Emma's service is to be 
found. But must it be assumed that the bare absence 
of such record is fatal to her case? It might further 
be urged that no copy of this particular King of Spain's 
letter exists in our archives. But has every important 
document mentioned in the despatches of this period 
invariably come to light? 

That the Spanish letter may have arrived about a 
month earlier than the date of the despatch, and that 
Acton also may have gleaned its contents, appears from 
the close similarity between Acton's two letters to 
Hamilton of August 18 and 21, and the spirit of Ham- 
ilton's short summary in his communication of Sep- 
tember 21 to Lord Grenville. Hamilton wrote that the 
King of Naples was " bitterly reproached for acting 
constantly in opposition to his brother's advice," and 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 185 

was warned that Charles would " soon be obliged to 
take another course with him." Acton wrote of the 
King's '- odd and open threatenings to his brother," 
and in his first letter that Spain had " certainly signed a 
treaty of alliance with the French," and was to " join 
with them even against us. We are assured of this 
by threatenings even not equivocal." 

Mr. Jeaffreson has further dwelt on the unlikelihood 
of such a sum as Emma names being spent on retain- 
ing the messenger out of her private purse, when her 
allowance was limited to £200 a year. But this al- 
lowance seems to have been only nominal. From the 
Morrison Collection it would appear that for some time 
she had been authorised by her husband to overdraw 
her account in view of increasing requirements. Then 
there are the minutiae about their health in 1795 and 
1796 to show that the former year better fits her claim. 
These would seem indecisive, considering his constant 
ailments. But a strange confirmation of her story re- 
mains in the fact of a locket given by Nelson to Emma 
in 1796, and recording the date. Such a present from 
one who had never seen her since 1793 may well be- 
token a real service. Everything, it must be conceded, 
remains inconclusive. All rests on circumstantial evi- 
dence merely, but apart from the problems of 1796, it 
will be owned that she succeeded in serving England 
during 1795. 

During the following month of October, Emma is 
still to be found transcribing documents and endorsing 
effusive gratitude on one of the Queen's letters. She 
had exerted herself, even if she exaggerates her exer- 
tions. It is perfectly possible, of course, that her 
memory, in confusing the events of these two years, 
may have also confused the date of her husband's ill- 
ness. But that her story, stripped of accidentals, is a 
myth, I cannot bring myself to believe. Even Lord 



186 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Grenville, thirteen years later, did not apparently 
specify fabrication as his reason for rejecting her 
claims. That during her future she proved often and 
otherwise blameworthy, that her distant past had been 
soiled, are scarcely reasons for discrediting the sub- 
stance of her story, though her efforts passed unheeded 
by the Government ; nor should Greville's repeated ac- 
knowledgments of her natural candour be forgotten. 
To every motive for political exertion had now been 
added immense opportunity. There is ample reason 
why she should have used it for her country's ad- 
vantage. She was no dabbler. She had wished to 
play a big part, and she was playing it. She had every 
qualification for acquitting herself well in the arena 
where she longed to shine, and promptitude alone could 
ensure success. 

Gloom deepened with the opening of the year 1797, 
but it riveted the Neapolitan House faster to England. 
The many French immigrants exulted. The pro-Span- 
ish party and all the Anglophobes became confident. 
Austria had ignobly desisted, and her ministers were 
rewarded by diamonds from the Pope. Great Britain 
— hesitating though she seemed — remained the sole 
champion against Buonaparte. Lord St. Vincent's 
name and Nelson's rang throughout Europe on the 
" glorious Valentine's day," and Emma infused fresh 
hope in the downcast Queen. She delighted to vaunt 
England's sinew and backbone. She prevented Ham- 
ilton from relaxing his efforts, and kept him at his 
post of honour. She was already ambitious for Nel- 
son. Maria Carolina at last divined that Buonaparte's 
objective was the Mediterranean. But Nelson had di- 
vined the aims of France earlier, when he wrote in Oc- 
tober, 1796, "We are all preparing to leave the 
Mediterranean, a measure which I cannot approve. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 187 

They at home do not know what this fleet is capable 
of performing; anything and everything." But 
Downing Street, in the person of the narrow-sighted 
Lord Grenville, still closed its eyes, shut its ears, 
and hardened its heart. At Rome the French repub- 
licans organised an uprising, and were driven for shel- 
ter into Joseph Buonaparte's Palazzo Corsini. He 
himself was threatened, and Duphot was killed, by the 
Papal guard. Eugene Beauharnais made a sortie of 
vengeance. Napoleon utilised the manceuvre to 
despatch General Berthier against the Pope's domin- 
ions. By the February of the ensuing year the Castle 
of St. Angelo was taken. On Ascension Day the Pope 
himself, in the Forum, heard the shouts of " Viva la 
Republica ; abasso il Papa ! " He did what other weak 
pontiffs have done before and since. He protested his 
" divine right," took his stand on it — and fled. Ousted 
from Sienna by earthquake, he retired to the Florentine 
Certosa, where his rooms fronting that beautiful pros- 
pect may still be viewed. Hounded out once more, he 
was harried from pillar to post — from Tortona to 
Turin, from Briancon to Valence — in the citadel of 
which, old and distressed, he breathed his last. 

At home Maria Carolina now reversed her policy of 
the knout. Vanni, the brutal Inquisitor of State, was 
deposed and banished, the diplomatic Castelcicala was 
given a free hand. All the captives were released. 
The Lazzaroni cheered till they were hoarse over the 
magnanimity of their rulers. 

And Acton, relieved from the burdens of bureaucracy, 
at last pressed Great Britain for a Mediterranean 
squadron. He and the Queen had both determined 
that their forced neutrality should be of short duration. 
If we would appreciate Emma's influence for Eng- 
land at Naples, the tone of his correspondence at this 
date should be compared with his indifference during 



1 88 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the earlier portion of the preceding year. The 
Mediterranean expedition which Nelson was to lead to 
such decisive triumph was far more the fruit of Neapol- 
itan importunities than of English foresight. 

Buonaparte had boasted that he would republicanise 
the Two Sicilies also. No sooner was Acton apprised 
of the fact than he immediately invited Sir Gilbert El- 
liot, who happened to be visiting Naples, to meet him 
and the Hamiltons. He again murmured against Lord 
Grenville's finesse. He assured Sir Gilbert that his 
country had strained every sinew " to move and en- 
gage seventeen million Italians to defend themselves, 
their property, and their honour"; all had been vain 
for lack of extraneous assistance; even their fleet had 
laboured to no purpose; in his quaint English, their 
" head-shipman had lost his head, if ever he had any." 
The case was now desperate. All hinged on a suffi- 
cient Mediterranean squadron. " Any English man- 
of-war, to the number of four at a time," could still be 
provisioned in Sicilian or Neapolitan ports. Their 
compelled compact with France allowed no more. And 
at a moment when the French were disquieting Naples 
by insurgent fugitives from the Romagna and else- 
where, Napoleon's smooth speeches were, said Acton, 
mere dissimulation. A " change of masters " might 
soon ensue. By the April of 1798 Acton was still 
more explicit in his correspondence with Hamilton. A 
fresh incursion was now definitely menaced. Naples 
was being blackmailed. The Parisian Directors of- 
fered her immunity, but only if she would pay them 
an exorbitant sum; otherwise she must be absorbed in 
the constellation of republics, while her monarch must 
join the debris of falling stars. Viennese support was 
little more than a forlorn hope for ravaged Italy. In 
the King's name he implored Hamilton to forward an 
English privateer to announce their desperate plight 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 189 

and urgent necessities to Lord St. Vincent. — " Their 
Majesties observe the critical moment for all Europe, 
and the threatens of an invasion even in England. 
They are perfectly convinced of the generous and ex- 
tensive exertions of the British nation at this moment, 
but a diversion in these points might operate ad- 
vantage for the common war. Will England see all 
Italy, and even the two Sicilies, in the French hands 
with indifference?" The half-hearted Emperor had 
at last consented to think of assisting his relations, 
though only should Naples be assailed; this perhaps 
might " hurry England." Seventeen ships of the line 
would soon be ready; there were seventy in Genoa, 
thirty at Civita Vecchia. These could carry " perhaps 
8000 men." But the French at Toulon could convey 
18,000. " With the English expedition we shall be 
saved. This is my communication from their 
Majesties." _ 

Hamilton's reply must have been bitterly cautious, 
for Acton in his answer observes, " We cannot avoid 
to expose that His Sicilian Majesty confides too much 
in His Britannic Majesty's Ministry's help." 

And all this time Emma is never from Maria Caro- 
lina's side ; writing to her, urging, praising, heartening, 
caressing the English. The Queen is all gratitude to 
her humble friend, whose enthusiasm is an asset of her 
hopes : — " Vous en etes le maitre de mon cceur, ma 
chere miledy," she writes in her bad and disjointed 
French ; " ni pour mes amis, comme vous, ni pour mes 
opinions [je] ne change jamais." She is " impatient 
for news of the English squadron." But she is still 
a wretched woman, disquieted by doubts and worn with 
care, as she may be viewed in the portraits of this 
period. She had deemed herself a pattern of duty, 
but had now woke up to the consciousness of being 
execrated by her victims ; while the loyal Lazzaroni, al- 



190 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

ways her mislikers, visited each national calamity on 
her head. Gallo, Acton, Belmonte, Castelcicala, Di 
Medici — all had been tried, and except Acton, who 
himself had wavered, all had been found wanting. It 
is the Nemesis of despots, even if enlightened, to rely 
successively on false supports, to fly by turns from 
betrayed trust to treachery once more trusted. Emma 
at all events would not fail her, and never did. " You 
may read," says Thackeray, " Pompeii in some folks' 
faces." Such a Pompeii-countenance must have been 
the Queen's. 

The English squadron was at last a fact. On 
March 29, 1798, Nelson hoisted his flag as Rear- 
Admiral of the Blue on board the Vanguard. On 
April 10 he sailed on one of the most eventful voyages 
in history. 

And meanwhile Maria Carolina, with Emma under 
her wing, might be seen pacing the palace garden, and 
eagerly scanning the horizon from sunny Caserta for 
a glimpse of one white sail. 

Sister Anne stands and waits on her watch-tower, 
feverish for Selim's arrival, while anguished Fatima 
peers into Bluebeard's cupboard, horror-stricken at its 
gruesome medley of dismembered sovereigns — martyrs 
or tyrants — which you please. 



CHAPTER VII 

TRIUMPH 
1798 

NELSON was in chase of Buonaparte's fleet. 
Napoleon's Egyptian expedition was, per- 
haps, the greatest wonder in a course rife with 
them. He was not yet thirty; he had been victorious 
by land, and had dictated terms at the gates of Vienna. 
In Italy, like Tarquin, he had knocked off the tallest 
heads first. Debt and jealousy hampered him at home. 
It was the gambler's first throw, that rarest audacity. 
For years his far-sightedness had fastened on the 
Mediterranean ; and now that Spain was friends with 
France, he divined the moment for crushing Britain. 
But even then his schemes were far vaster than his 
contemporaries could comprehend. His plan was to 
obtain Eastern Empire, to reduce Syria, and, after re- 
casting sheikhdoms in the dominion of the Pharaohs, 
possibly after subduing India, to dash back and con- 
quer England. Italy was honeycombed with his repub- 
lics. To Egypt France should be suzerain, a democracy 
with vassals ; as for Great Britain, if she kept her King, 
it must be on worse terms than even Louis the Bour- 
bon had once dared to prescribe to the Stuarts. This, 
too, was the first and only time when he, an unskilled 
mariner, was for a space in chief naval command. 
Most characteristic was it also of him — the encyclo- 
paedist in action — to have remembered science in this 
enterprise against science's home of origin. That vast 

191 



192 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Armada of ships and frigates, that huge L' Orient, 
whose very name was augury, those forty thousand 
men in transports, did not suffice. An array of 
savants, with all their apparatus, swelling the muster 
on board their vessel to no less than two thousand, ac- 
companied the new man who was to make all things 
new. It was nigh a month after Nelson started when 
Napoleon sailed. Sudden as a flash of lightning, yet 
impenetrable as the cloud from which it darts, he veiled 
his movements and doubled in his course. 

It was on Saturday, June 16, that Hamilton first 
sighted Nelson's approach. The van of the small 
squadron of fourteen sail was visible as it neared Ischia 
from the westward and made for Capri. He at once 
took up his pen to send him the latest tidings of the 
armament which, eluding his pursuit, had now passed 
the Sicilian seaboard. The glad news of Nelson's ar- 
rival spread like wildfire. The French residents 
mocked and scowled. The people cheered. The sol- 
emn ministers smiled. The royal family, in the depths 
of dejection, plucked up heart; the Queen was in 
ecstasy. But Gallo and the anti-English group were 
suspicious and perplexed. They and the King still 
waited on Austria. On Spain they could no longer 
fawn. 

Nelson's instructions were to water and provide his 
fleet in any Mediterranean port, except in Sardinia, if 
necessary by arms. It was not that for the moment he 
needed refreshment for those scanty frigates, the want 
of which, he wrote afterwards, would be found graven 
on his heart. But he had a long and intricate enter- 
prise before him. He was hunting a fox that would 
profit by every bend and crevice, so to speak, of the 
country. He could not track him without the cer- 
tainty that, apart from the delays that force must en- 
tail, all his requirements, perhaps for two months^ 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 193 

would be granted on mere demand. Even so early as 
June 12 he had requested definite answers from Ham- 
ilton as to what precise aid he could count upon from 
a pseudo-neutral power trifling over diplomatic 
pedantries with the slippery chancelleries of Vienna; 
while some days before, Hamilton received from Eden 
at Vienna a despatch from Grenville emphasising the 
" necessity/' as it was now regarded at home, for en- 
suring the " free and unlimited " admission of British 
ships into Sicilian harbours, and " every species of 
provisions and supplies usually afforded by an ally." 
Hamilton had tried in vain to surmount an obstacle im- 
portant alike to France, to the King, and to Austria. 
Nelson also knew too well the barrier set against com- 
pliance by the terms of the fatal Franco-Neapolitan 
pact of 1796. Not more than four frigates at once 
might be received into any harbour of Ferdinand's 
coasts. He knew that the Queen and her friends were 
in the slough of despond. He knew too — for the 
Hamiltons had been in continual correspondence — that 
Austria was once more shilly-shallying. While Naples 
was longing to break her neutrality, Austria, for the 
moment satisfied with shame, was now secretly nego- 
tiating, with all the long and tedious array of etiquette, 
preliminaries to a half-hearted arrangement. Even in 
deliberation she would, as we have seen, only succour 
Naples if Naples were attacked. Against this Napo- 
leon had guarded : so far as concerned him and the 
present, Naples should be left in perilous peace. He 
was content with the seeds of revolution that he had 
stealthily sown. Even as he passed Trapani on his 
way to Malta, which already by the 10th of June he 
had invested (and whose plunder he had promised to 
his troops), he pacified the Sicilians with unlimited re- 
assurances of good-will. And Nelson knew well also 
that Maria Carolina and Emma chafed under the fet- 



194 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

ters of diplomacy and of treaty that shackled action. 
If only he could obtain some royal mandate for his 
purpose, either through them — for the Queen had 
rights in Council — or from Acton, rather than the 
King still swayed by Gallo, he felt convinced of success. 
Otherwise, should emergencies arise within the next 
few weeks, as arise they must, he would perforce hark 
back to Gibraltar; and in such a water-hunt of views 
and checks as he now contemplated, delay might spell 
failure, and failure his country's ruin. 

About six o'clock by Neapolitan time, on a lovely 
June morning, Captains Troubridge and Hardy landed 
from the Mutine, which, together with the Monarch, 
on which was Captain T. Carrol, lay anchored in the 
bay, leaving Nelson in the Vanguard with his fleet off 
Capri. Troubridge, charged with important requests 
by Nelson, at once proceeded to the Embassy. 

Lady Hamilton's after-allegations have been much 
criticised, and, step by step, stubbornly disputed, while 
even these, as will be urged, have perhaps been mis- 
read ; nor has her simpler account in her " King's 
Memorial " been taken, still less Nelson's repeated as- 
surances about her " exclusive interposition " to Rose, 
Pitt's favourable consideration, Canning's own ac- 
knowledgment, the neutrality at any rate of Grenville, 
and a statement by Lord Melville, afterwards to be 
mentioned. 

Emma and her husband were awakened by their 
early visitors, who included Hardy and, perhaps, 
Bowen. Hamilton arose hurriedly, and took the of- 
ficers off to Acton's neighbouring house. Some kind 
of council was held, probably at the palace. In that 
case Gallo, as foreign minister, may well have been 
present. Troubridge, as Nelson's mouthpiece, stated 
his requirements. Gallo, we know, was hesitating and 
hostile. The whole arrangement with the court of 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 195 

Vienna now lagging under his procrastination, would 
be spoiled if Naples were prematurely to break with 
France, and an open breach must be certain if succour 
for the whole of Nelson's fleet were afforded at the 
Sicilian ports in contravention of the burdensome en- 
gagement with the French Directory; while it would 
further be implied that the British fleet was at the 
Neapolitan service. Recourse to the King would not 
only be dangerous, but probably futile ; the more so, 
since the French minister at Naples was now citizen 
Garat, a pedant, pamphleteer, and lecturer of the strait- 
est sect among busybodying theorists. Such a man, 
Gallo would urge, must be the loudest in umbrage at 
even the appearance of pro-British zeal. Acton could 
have rebutted these objections by observing that the 
" order " need not be signed by Ferdinand, but merely 
informally by himself "in the King's name"; as, in 
fact, a sort of roving " credential " ; that it could be so 
worded as to imply no breach of treaty, but only the 
refreshment of four ships at a time; that the gov- 
ernors of the ports might be separately instructed to 
offer a show of resistance if more were demanded of 
them; that Garat need never know what had 
transpired till the moment came when Austria had 
signed her pact with Naples, and France might be 
dared in the face of day; Troubridge's reception could 
be (and was) represented as no more than a common 
civility which Acton paid not only to English visitors, 
but even to French officers. All must be " under the 
rose," and thus far only could Nelson be obliged. To 
Nelson's further requisition for frigates a polite non 
possumus could be the only answer. Pending these 
delicate Austrian negotiations, and until an open rup- 
ture with France was possible with safety, Naples was 
in urgent need of a permanent fleet in the Mediter- 
ranean, and this, quid pro quo, Nelson naturally would 

Memoirs — VoL 14 — 7 



196 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

not bind himself to concede, though, so far as his in- 
structions and the situation warranted, he was ready, 
even eager, to do so. 

This half- formal but scarcely effectual " order " was 
obtained. 

There exists an original draft of Hamilton's official 
recital of what passed to Lord Grenville. One of its 
interlineations is perhaps significant. He first omitted, 
and afterwards added that the order was in Acton's 
handwriting as well as in the King's name. Nelson 
had wanted a quick royal mandate. He received a 
ministerial order involving further instructions and 
diplomatic delays. Moreover, five days after Trou- 
bridge's visit, Acton thanked Hamilton for his " del- 
icate and kind part " " under all the circumstances." 
It may not have been quite such a plain-sailing affair 
as it has seemed. 

" We did more business in half an hour," wrote 
Hamilton in a final despatch to the same minister, 
" than we should have done in a week in the usual 
official way. Captain Troubridge went straight to 
the point. ... I prevailed upon General Acton to 
write himself an order in the name of His Sicilian 
Majesty, directed to the governors of every port in 
Sicily, to supply the King's ships with all sorts of 
provisions, and in case of an action to permit the Brit- 
ish seamen, sick or wounded, to be landed and taken 
proper care of in their ports." The draft, however, 
contains a telling supplement. " He expressed only a 
wish to get sight of Buonaparte and his army, ' for,' 
said he, 'By God, we shall lick them' " Before Nel- 
son's officers departed, they received also from Hamil- 
ton's hands Gallo's fatuous replies to their Admiral's 
questions of five days before. 

Troubridge was " perfectly satisfied," he could even 
be called perfectly happy. But meanwhile that may 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 197 

have passed which Emma afterwards maintained. Fate 
was at stake. She may have rushed to the Queen, for 
they both knew how little such a conclave would prob- 
ably achieve; and Gallo's attitude might well deter 
Acton from straightforward compliance. Nelson 
might fancy this council's " order " a quick passport to 
his desires. But they knew its formal flourishes to be 
doubtful. In the result, it would hardly seem to have 
acted with speed or unaided. Emma's owa after- 
story is that she besought Maria Carolina, with tears 
and on bended knees, to exercise her prerogative and 
supplement the mandate b} the promise of direct in- 
structions. From after events and from inveterate 
habit the dramatic scene is probable. According to 
Emma (and Pettigrew), Hamilton wrote forthwith to 
Nelson, " You will receive from Emma herself what 
will do the business and procure all your wants." One 
can see this impulsive woman clapping her hands for 
joy, and singing aloud with exultation. In some two 
hours Troubridge and Hardy had rowed back to the 
Mutine and set sail towards Capri. 

Within a few hours at any rate Emma, throbbing 
with excitement, penned two hasty notes to Nelson him- 
self, both included in her newly found correspondence 
of this year. Each — and they are brief — must be re- 
peated here, for the second of them disposes of the 
version, hitherto accepted, that Nelson never received 
that from the Queen which his famous letter to Lady 
Hamilton represents him as " kissing " ; while the first 
suggests a likelihood that this thrilling day did not 
close before Emma had managed to see Nelson himself 
at Capri. Both these letters are scrawled in evident 
haste. 

\_ijth June, 1798.] 
" My dear Admiral, — I write in a hurry as Captain 



i 9 8 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

T. Carrol stays on Monarch. God bless you, and send 
you victorious, and that I may see you bring back 
Buonaparte with you. Pray send Captain Hardy out 
to us, for I shall have a fever with anxiety. The 
Queen desires me to say everything that's kind, and 
bids me say with her whole heart and soul she wishes 
you victory. God bless you, my dear Sir. I will not 
say how glad I shall be to see you. Indeed I cannot 
describe to you my feelings on your being so near 
us. — Evej, Ever, dear Sir, Your affte. and grate- 
full 

" Emma Hamilton." 

But now comes a decisive epistle, the missing link, 
bearing in mind Nelson's disputed answer to it, the date 
of which has been most ingeniously transferred to the 
following May — a date not perhaps wholly appropriate. 
Theory, however, must here yield to this piece of reality 
on a scrap of notepaper. 

The letter, written very hurriedly, is on similar paper 
and presumably of the same date as its predecessor : — 

" Dear Sir, — I send you a letter I have received this 
moment from the Queen. Kiss it, and send it back by 
Bo wen, as I am bound not to give any of her letters. — ■ 
Ever vour 

" Emma." 

Captain Bowen of the Transfer had brought Ham- 
ilton despatches from Lord St. Vincent just a week 
before, and was his guest until the 2nd of August sub- 
sequent. 

The fact that Emma begs for the letter's return in- 
dicates that it was one of importance, and might com- 
promise the Queen. After the battle of the Nile Emma 
sent Nelson tzvo of the Queen's ordinary letters about 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 199 

him, as a token of gratitude, and without any request 
for their redelivery. 

This missive from the Queen seems to have been one 
promising Nelson some further document of direct 
instructions to the governors of ports in event of future 
urgency. It is right, however, to state that during 
revision I have lit on a Queen's letter of about this 
date telling Emma that " circumstances ... do not 
permit of opening our ports and arms entirely to our 
brave defenders " ; " our gratitude is none the less " ; 
she hopes for victory, and wanted to have seen Trou- 
bridge had prudence allowed. The Queen's anxiety, 
however, to aid is again manifest from this new let- 
ter, which shows, too, how keenly she realised the 
diplomatic situation on which such stress has been laid. 
In the absence of other evidence it need not be unduly 
pressed against my theory about her letter of mere 
promise to Nelson on June 17. 

The immediate reply and pendant to that cheering 
communication was Nelson's familiar and much- 
debated letter written an hour before he weighed an- 
chor : — 

" My dear Lady Hamilton, — / have kissed the 
Queen's letter. Pray say I hope for the honor of 
kissing her hand when no fears will intervene, assure 
her Majesty that no person has her felicity more than 
myself at heart and that the sufferings of her family 
will be a Tower of Strength on the day of Battle, fear 
not the event, God is with us, God bless you and Sir 
William, pray say I cannot stay to answer his letter. — 
Ever Yours faithfully, 

" Horatio Nelson." 1 

a This letter is misdated in the hurry (as was sometimes the 
way with Nelson), 17th May, 6 p.m. It is admitted, of course, 
that on that day he was off Cape Sicie, so that if applicable to 
1798, it must be a slip of the pen for June 17. With regard to 



200 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

On this (still visible in the British Museum) Emma's 
after-indorsement runs, " This letter I received after 
I had sent the Queen's letter for receiving our ships 
into their ports, for the Queen had decided to act in 
opposition to the King, who would not then break with 
France, and our Fleet must have gone down to Gibral- 
tar to have watered, and the battle of the Nile would 
not have been fought, for the French fleet would have 
got back to Toulon." She is reviewing the whole 
length of the transaction, the critical issues at Syracuse 
of next month on Nelson's first return from Egypt, the 
ultimate victory. She does the same in other parts of 
her two long memorials. Her statements have been 
construed as post-dating Nelson's momentous visit 
to the time when he returned from pursuit for supplies 
to Sicily and resailed equipped to Aboukir Bay. 
Emma's words, " this awful period," tally with the 
general impression given by some of Acton's letters and 

"my dear," etc., cf. Morrison MS. 317, where on the preceding 
day Hamilton mentions her as " Emma " to his " dear Nelson " 
and " brave friend," and says she wishes him victory " heart 
and soul." In her " Addington " memorial of 1803 she puts the 
matter quite clearly : — " The fleet itself, I can truly say, could not 
have got into Sicily, but for what I was happily able to do with 
the Queen of Naples, and through her secret instructions so ob- 
tained." 

The material wording of the familiar " Prince Regent's " 
memorial runs : " It was at this awful period in June 1798, about 
three days after the French fleet passed by for Malta, Sir 
William and myself were awakened at six o'clock in the morn- 
ing by Captain Trowbridge with a letter from Sir Horatio 
Nelson, then with his fleet off the bay near to Caprea, request- 
ing that the Ambassador would procure him permission to enter 
with his fleet into Naples or any of the Sicilian ports, to pro- 
vision, water, etc., as otherwise he must run for Gibraltar, 
being in urgent want, and that, consequently, he would be 
obliged to give over all further pursuit of the French fleet, 
which he missed at Egypt, on account of their having put in to 
Malta." 

The wording of her King's memorial, which seems never to 
have been presented, is more clearly expressed and more ex- 
plicit: — "That Your Majesty's Memorialist on a subsequent oc- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 201 

the Queen's as to the present crisis. Hamilton himself 
in a draft for his known despatch of this date to Gren- 
ville adds the significant postscript — " This Court, as 
you may perceive, is in great distiess." A note has al- 
ready sought to show that Nelson must surely have 
been aware of the court's suffering condition. There 
seems, therefore, nothing improbable in his use of the 
phrase, " the sufferings of her family." 

I hope now to have proved that this long-questioned 
Nelson letter was, undoubtedly, the instant answer to 
Emma's own communication, for the first time here 
brought to light. The twin letters are at length re- 
united, and at least a new complexion is placed on the 
received account. Emma assuredlv sent Nelson a let- 
ter covering one from the Queen, and so far her claim 
is supported. In this respect, therefore, modern scep- 
ticism has proved mistaken. I cannot but hope that 
such as have doubted may now find reason to modify 
their verdict, and will honour Nelson, whose love for 
Emma has been begrudged as debasement, by admit- 

casion, by means of the same confidential communication with 
that great and good woman, the Queen of Naples, had the un- 
speakable felicity of procuring a secret order for victualling and 
watering, at the port of Syracuse, the fleet of Your Most 
Gracious Majesty under the command of Admiral Nelson; by 
which means that heroic man, the pride and glory of his King 
and country, was enabled to proceed the second time to Egypt 
with a promptitude and celerity which certainly hastened the 
glorious battle of the Nile, and occasioned his good and grate- 
ful heart to admit your humble Memorialist as well as the 
Queen of Naples to a participation in that important victory." 
Her words speak for themselves to every unprejudiced mind. 

The wording of Nelson's codicil is: — "Secondly, the British 
fleet under my command could never have returned a second 
time to Egypt had not Lady Hamilton's influence with the 
Queen of Naples caused letters to be wrote to the Governor of 
Syracuse, that he was to encourage the fleet to be supplied 
with every thing, should they put into any port in Sicily. We 
put into Syracuse, and received every supply; went to Egypt 
and destroyed the French fleet. Could I have rewarded these 
services, I would not now call upon my country." 



202 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

ting that what he claimed in his last codicil for the 
woman of his heart was neither " infatuation " nor 
falsehood, and that without her it would hardly have 
happened. 

Scarcely had Nelson put to sea when he at once re- 
sumed communication with the Hamiltons. He wishes 
the Neapolitans to depend upon him. If only supplies 
are forthcoming when his need presses, his fleet shall 
be their mainstay. He laments his lack of frigates, but 
" thank God," he adds, " I am not apt to feel diffi- 
culties." He confides to Lady Hamilton his hope 
to be " presented " to her " crowned with laurels 
or cypress." He presses them to exert themselves in 
procuring for him masts and stores. He deprecates 
the diplomatic quibbles about " co-operation," while 
lagging Austria manoeuvres, and after he himself has 
come in crisis to their assistance. He points out the 
peril from Napoleon at Malta, he repeats, " Malta is 
the direct road to Sicily." The Two Sicilies are the 
key of the position. 

And, indeed, the catastrophe of Malta formed the 
dirge of all this summer. The Queen was distracted 
at the royal and ministerial delays and punctilios. La 
Valette was in French hands " without a blow," the 
Maltese knights were dastards, and she could not pity 
them. " Ces coquins de Francais " pretended to have 
grenades to burn the fleet of her hopes. She dis- 
parages Garat. She sends her " dear, faithful " Emma 
the Austrian ciphers to copy under vows of secrecy : 
Emma will see how little sincerity exists in Vienna. 
Emma is indispensable. Emma has infused her whole 
being with Nelson. The Queen bids her shout and 
sing once more before the assembled throng, " Hip, 
hip, hip! " " God save the King! " and " God save Nel- 
son ! " She harps on Malta, " an irreparable loss," and 
" gallant Nelson, with his British fleet," which she 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 203 

strained her mind's eye to follow past Cape Passaro. 
She owns Emma's initiative. In some matter seem- 
ingly relative to British ships, she writes that Emma's 
wishes are assured by a reputation (was it Maltese?) ; 
the " brave English " are now assured of the national 
sympathy. 

Nor was Hamilton behindhand. He furnished Nel- 
son with advices. He informed him how Napoleon 
had quitted Malta; how Garat's insolent demand that 
the French should usurp the Maltese privilege of buy- 
ing Sicilian corn had eventually succeeded ; " shock- 
ing," he comments, that neither King nor Emperor 
will " abandon half measures." He sent him Captain 
Hope with Irish intelligence. He looked hourly for 
news of the French Armada's overthrow. 

Lady Hamilton also continued her correspondence. 
She thanks him for his letter through Captain Bowen, 
which she has translated for the Queen, who " prays 
for " his " honour and safety — victory, she is sure, you 
will have " ; she " sees and feels " all Nelson's grounds 
for complaint, — so does Emma, who calls Garat " an 
impudent, insolent dog." " I see plainly," she adds 
with emphasis, " The Court of Naples must declare 
war, if they mean to save their country. But alas! 
their First Minister Gallo is a frivolous, ignorant, self- 
conceited coxcomb, that thinks of nothing but his fine 
embroidered coat, ring and snuff-box ; and half Naples 
thinks him half a Frenchman; and God knows, if one 
may judge of what he did in making the peace for the 
Emperor, he must either be very ignorant, or not at- 
tached to his masters or the Cause Commune. The 
Queen and Acton cannot bear him, and consequently 
he cannot have much power ; but still a First Minister, 
although he may be a minister of smoke, yet he has 
always something, at least enough to do mischief. The 
Jacobins have all been lately declared innocent, after 



204 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

suffering four years' imprisonment; and I know, they 
all deserved to be hanged long ago; and since Garat 
has been here, and through his insolent letters to Gallo, 
these pretty gentlemen, that had planned the death of 
their Majesties, are to be let out in society again. In 
short, I am afraid, all is lost here; and I am grieved to 
the heart for our dear, charming Queen, who deserves 
a better fate. ... I hope you will not quit the Mediter- 
ranean without taking us. . . . But yet, I trust in God 
and you, that we shall destroy those monsters before we 
go from hence. God bless you, my dear, dear sir." 

And meanwhile Nelson, in hot pursuit, scoured the 
Mediterranean — Malta, Candia, Alexandria, Syria — 
in vain. The commander of both fleet and army, with 
genius, youth, and Corsican strategy to back him, still 
baffled the daring " sea-wolf," as he always called him. 
Nelson lived " in hopes," he never rested. But " the 
Devil's children have the Devil's luck," as he and Ham- 
ilton both assured each other. 

The 19th of July saw him back at Syracuse in recoil 
for his last spring, and in the very need against which 
his foresight had forearmed him. He lacked both 
stores and water. He seemed as far from his goal as 
when he started. 

Let him speak for himself. Writing from Syracuse 
and in retrospect, he told Hamilton : "... I stretched 
over to the coast of Caramania ; where not speaking a 
vessel who could give me information, I became dis- 
tressed for the kingdom of the Two Sicilies ; and hav- 
ing gone a round of six hundred leagues, at this season 
of the year (with a single ship, with an expedition in- 
credible), here I am, as ignorant of the situation of the 
enemy as I was twenty-seven days ago ! " 

Now was the time for the Queen's " open sesame," 
if both Acton's " order " and her own " letter " of 
promise failed to operate with expedition. That such 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 205 

a letter was probably in Nelson's pocket may be in- 
ferred from the subsequent narrative. 

While Nelson nears the Syracusan harbour bar, mod- 
ern criticism once more intercepts our view, and must 
for a moment delay our story. It will not do so long, 
because one of the documents on which its controversy 
relies will enable us to resume our thread. But three 
preliminaries must first be mentioned. 

It is important to distinguish between the official and 
the private letters of Nelson and Hamilton — the former 
meant to be shown to others, the latter written for the 
recipient alone ; and, more especially, beween these two 
distinct classes of correspondence, and those other half- 
private letters intended for Hamilton to show Acton in 
confidence, and yet hinting or suggesting more than 
the General was meant to gather from them. 

It has also escaped full notice that for some time 
past a private correspondence had regularly passed be- 
tween Nelson and the Hamiltons. This is clear from 
a letter (soon to be quoted) of July 22 from Nelson to 
Lady Hamilton in the Morrison Collection, where he 
inquires after her plans for " coming down the Medi- 
terranean " with her husband, presumably to help him. 
Thirdly, so late as the first week in August, after Nel- 
son's battle had been won, Acton was still ignorant that 
his ships had been adequately provisioned, and was ar- 
ranging further measures for the purpose; aware on 
August 15 of the Sicilian provisions, he planned 
more. 

Let us glance at a little farce enacted with exquisite 
gravity by the Governor of Syracuse. 

It emerges from a document addressed by him to 
General Sir John Acton. A key to this is supplied 
by the fact that General Acton, days after handing the 
informal " order," had expressly cautioned Hamilton 
that, pending the as yet unsigned articles with Austria, 



206 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

all the governors of all Sicilian ports had been specially 
directed to make an " ostensible opposition," lest the 
French might be incensed into attack by any open 
breach of the stipulated Neapolitan neutrality. Above 
all, it should be noted that this Governor's letter at 
Naples seems to distinguish between a royal despatch 
signed by Acton, and a royal letter in Nelson's pos- 
session. On the other hand, the other construction is 
open. When the " Vice-Admiral " declared that the 
letter entitled the whole fleet to be watered, he may 
only have been making the best of the despatch. 

The whole scene rises vividly before us. On the 
morning of Thursday the 19th " several ships " were 
seen sailing in slow procession from the east. Gradu- 
ally fourteen emerged from " the distance." As they 
became more distinct in the freshening east wind, the 
Governor ordered the castle flag to be hoisted, and the 
British flag was instantly flown in reply. 

The Governor next sent out his boat with the 
" Captain of the Port " and the " Adjutant of the 
Town," civilians charged with compliments and offers. 
Nelson, however, regardless of these ceremonies, 
profited by the wind to steer " straight into the har- 
bour." The pompous Governor, shocked at such haste, 
forwarded a second boat with two military function- 
aries to repeat his compliments, and to acquaint the 
Admiral with what he had known and resented for 
weeks — the impediment of " not more than four ships 
of war at a time." But Nelson had anticipated these 
formal courtesies. A shore-boat promptly met the 
Governor's with " a royal letter " purporting to con- 
tain royal instructions for the admission of the whole 
squadron. This I take to have been the Queen's pri- 
vate letter, forwarded in pursuance of her promise to 
Emma, and holding the Governor harmless in disobey- 
ing the strict letter of the law. While, therefore, in 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 207 

pursuance of certainty, the entire squadron advanced 
to cross the bar, the British " Vice-Admiral " proceeded 
with the officers, and was received by the Governor 
at his house. There he delivered a further (and sep- 
arate?) missive, "a royal despatch" written in the 
King's name, and signed by Acton — in fact, the ir- 
regular " order " obtained on that memorable morning 
of June 17, and by no means expressly empowering the 
reception of the whole fleet. The Governor, conform- 
ing to the prescribed comedy, feigned hesitation; there- 
upon a letter from Nelson himself was shown — " dif- 
ficult to read," and justifying the entire squadron's en- 
trance. Hereupon the Governor, " struck " by what 
he must have known, and also by other reflections [The 
Queen's private order?], reminds one of Byron's " and 
whispering I will ne'er consent, consented." He af- 
fected to raise " friendly protests," while he enforced 
the King's directions to save appearances by spreading 
the ships over different regions and at various distances. 
He even hinted in confidence the " propriety " of quit- 
ting the port as soon as possible, and of landing none 
but unarmed sailors, and even these under a promise to 
return so soon as the city gates were closed at sunset. 
On the following afternoon Nelson and his " staff " 
paid their respects. The Governor grasped him 
warmly by the hand, but still maintained his outward 
show of resistance. There were, he said, royal orders, 
under present circumstances, forbidding him to return 
the call on shipboard. And the last sentence of his 
record perhaps best illustrates the whole comedy by 
solemnly informing Sir John that the recital was only 
addressed to him for the official purpose of being 
shown to his Sicilian Majesty. Ferdinand was to be 
kept in the dark. He was ignorant of anything that 
the Queen might have dared through Emma's request. 
He was to believe that the stretch of international ci- 



208 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

vility had been empowered by Acton's document alone, 
the document signed in his name. 

So much for outward semblance. Nelson's inner 
feelings at this most critical juncture supplement the 
story. 

We have reached July the 21st. The fleet was not 
completely stocked and watered till the 23rd. Before 
that date the whole town rejoiced and fraternised with 
the British sailors : of sympathy at least there was no 
concealment, and — a real Sicilian trait — all the country- 
folk immediately raised the price of their provisions. 

On July 22nd Nelson forwarded two private let- 
ters, one to Sir William, the other to Lady Hamilton. 

They are both indignant and irritable at delay ag- 
gravated by intense disappointment. It was not only 
that he was still without news of the French. He had 
counted on the instant virtue of Acton's order, without 
the need of recourse to a secret charm. For Hamil- 
ton had been told only three weeks before by the Gen- 
eral that, in pursuance of it, " every proper order " for 
the British squadron " had been already given in 
Sicily," and " in the way mentioned here with the brave 
Captain Troubridge." Nelson had therefore good 
reason to hope for prepared co-operation. He had 
been met by farcical routine; and red-tape, even when 
most expected, always repelled and ruffled him. Nor 
so far had the Queen's letter of indemnity to the Gov- 
ernors been followed by the actual " open sesame " 
which she had promised as a last resort. For disap- 
pointment concerning Acton's order he was prepared, 
but not for the failure of his hidden talisman. So far 
the charm had not worked; a fresh letter from the 
Queen might still be required. 

" I have heard so much said," runs Nelson's first out- 
burst — which he entrusted to the Governor himself for 
transit — " about the King of Naples' orders only to 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 209 

admit three or four of the ships . . . that I am aston- 
ished. I understood that private orders at least would 
have been given for our free admission. . . . Our 
treatment is scandalous for a great nation to put up 
with and the King's flag is insulted at every friendly 
port we look at." 

The second — to Lady Hamilton — is almost cool in 
ironical displeasure, a coolness betokening how unex- 
pectedly his cherished hopes had been belied : — 

" My dear Madam, — I am so hurt at the treatment 
we received from the power we came to assist and 
fight for, that I am hardly in a situation to write a 
letter to an elegant body: therefore you must on this 
occasion forgive my want of those attentions which I 
am ever anxious to shew you. / wish to know your 
and Sir William's plans for coming down the Medi- 
terranean, for if we are to be kicked at every port of 
the Sicilian dominions, the sooner we are gone, the 
better. Good God ! how sensibly I feel our treatment. 
I have only to pray that I may find the French and 
throw all my vengeance on them." 

The omission in these lines of any specific mention 
either of the Queen or her letter, so far from being 
singular, is exactly what was to be expected. She al- 
ways stipulated in such matters that her name should 
never be breathed, nor her position jeopardised with 
the King, and in this instance Acton also had to be kept 
in the dark. It will be remembered also that Emma's 
letter inclosing the Queen's promise to Nelson ex- 
pressly stated that she was " bound not to give any of 
her letters," and, indeed, claimed its instant return. 

But meanwhile, on this very 22nd of July, a sudden 
change came over Nelson's tone; still more so, on the 
following day before he weighed anchor. Melancholy 



210 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

and annoyance gave way to delight. Something must 
have intervened to alter the face of affairs, something 
with which Nelson's temper accorded, and that some- 
thing was certainly not any sight of the French fleet. 
Delay had been removed. 

Shortly after these two epistles to the Hamiltons 
Nelson further penned his short but memorable 
" Arethusa " letter to them. Both Sir Harris Nicolas, 
and Professor Laughton following him, have denied 
the authenticity of this letter on the internal evidence of 
its style. They say that Nelson could never have used 
such a classical or poetical phrase as " surely watering 
by the fountain of Arethusa." But in the first place 
it is not, in Syracuse, poetical or classical, as every 
traveller is aware. Each Syracusan street-boy to this 
day calls the spring by the sea, with its rim of Egyptian 
cotton-plants, " the fountain of Arethusa." And in 
the second, if it were, it would be in accordance with 
many of Nelson's phrases caught from the Hamiltons. 
Professor Laughton has, I believe, gone so far as even 
to doubt that Hamilton about this period could address 
his friend as " My dear Nelson." He is mistaken. 
Writing to Nelson a month previously, Sir William 
ends with " All our present dependance is in you, my 
dear Nelson,, and I am convinced that what is in the 
power of mortal man, you will do." 

The " Arethusa " letter springs, it is true, from the 
suspected source of the Life of Nelson by the hireling 
Harrison — that same Harrison who, perhaps, was one 
of those to embitter the darkening days and fortunes of 
Lady Hamilton, his benefactress. But it is sanctioned 
by Pettigrew, who, as a collector par excellence of Nel- 
son autographs, was, on questions of style, an expert 
of tried judgment; and it will be noticed with interest 
that "the laurel or cypress" passage (itself both 
poetical and classical) forms a feature also of his in- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 211 

disputable " private " letter to Hamilton already no- 
ticed, and following immediately on his authentic an- 
swer to Lady Hamilton's newly found note of June 
17:— 

" My dear Friends, — Thanks to your exertions, we 
have victualled and watered: and surely watering at 
the Fountain of Arethusa we must have victory. We 
shall sail with the first breeze and be assured I will re- 
turn either crowned with laurel, or covered with 
cypress." 

The " first breeze " did not apparently rise until the 
day following; and even if the "Arethusa" letter 
were a fabrication, which I can see no valid reason for 
supposing, we are able to dispense with its witness to 
Nelson's sudden relief of mood. He was now enabled 
to start about two days earlier than he had hoped, and 
on the 23rd, before departing, he wrote yet again to 
his dear friends in joyful gratitude, and in phrases im- 
plying that the long-deferred " private orders " had 
arrived, though the evidently guarded wording pro- 
vides, as so often, against its being shown to General 
Acton. This letter's authenticity can hardly be 
doubted. 

" The fleet is unmoored, and the moment the wind 
comes off the land shall go out of this delightful har- 
bour, where our present wants have been amply sup- 
plied, and where every attention has been paid to us; 
but I have been tormented by no private orders being 
given to the Governor for our admission. I have only 
to hope that I shall still find the French fleet, and be 
able to get at them. . . . No frigates! " Even a fort- 
night later Acton still excuses himself to Hamilton. 

Assuredly throughout these quick transitions the un- 
dertone of Emma and the Oueen is audible. Nelson 



212 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

knew what had really happened ; his commentators are 
left to guess the truth from disputed shreds of cor- 
respondence. 

Refitted and reheartened, Nelson, who, as ever, had 
long been rehearsing his plans to his officers, hastened 
with his fleet to Aboukir Bay. There is no need to re- 
count that memorable struggle of the ist of August, 
which lasted over twenty-four hours — the daring 
strategy of a master-pilot, the giant L'Ofient blazing 
with colours already struck, and exploded under a sul- 
len sky torn with livid lightning, the terrific thunder- 
storm interrupting the death-throes of the battle, the 
complete triumph of an encounter which delivered 
England from France, and nerved a revived Europe 
against her. Villeneuve had been outwitted; Brueys 
was dead; so was Ducheyla. Even Napoleon's papers 
had been captured. Nelson stands out after the tur- 
moil, once more battered, once again far more zealous 
for the fame of his officers than his own, yet furious 
at the escape of the only two French frigates that 
avoided practical annihilation. Never was there a 
supreme naval encounter that exercised such a moral 
effect, and so defeated both the foe and anticipation. 
He was acclaimed the " saviour " both of Britain and 
the Continent. 

And his trust in the Hamiltons, his unshakable be- 
lief in Emma, were at once evinced by his giving them 
the earliest intelligence of what set all Europe tingling. 
Emma's ears and her husband's were the very first to 
hear it. 

The French had vaunted that Buonaparte would 
erase Britain from the map. In their desperation they 
still vowed to burn her fleet. Their insolence on 
Garat's lips had resounded in the streets and on the 
very house-tops of Naples. It was not long before that 
same Garat was to be curtly dismissed, before not a 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 213 

" French dog " dared " show his face," before at the 
opera " not a French cockade was to be seen " ; before 
the Queen, half-mad for joy, addressed an English 
letter to the British sailors, doubtless with her Emma's 
aid, sent them casks of wine incognita, and presented 
Hoste with a diamond ring, before Britain and Naples 
had struck up a close alliance against the common foe. 
The world was a changed world from that of a 
week before. History had been made and was making. 
On Nelson's life, to quote Lord St. Vincent's words, 
hung the fate of the remaining Governments in Europe, 
" whose system has not been deranged by these devils." 
But for him Britain might have been France, and the 
Mediterranean a French lake. To the end of time the 
Nile would rank with Marathon, with Actium, with 
Blenheim. Nelson had entered the Pantheon of fame, 
he had embodied his country, he was Great Britain. 
He belonged to Time no longer. Emma's heart 
leaped, as she flew exulting with the first breath of vic- 
tory to the Queen. So early as September the 1st 
she had heard the triumph of which ministers and 
potentates were ignorant; she, the poor Cheshire girl, 
the " Lancashire Witch," whose dawn of life had been 
smirched and sullied; she, the Sieve of lecturing and 
hectoring Greville, the wife of an ambassador whose 
lethargy she had stirred to purpose; she, the admired 
of artists, the Queen's comrade. Was anything im- 
possible to youth and beauty, and energy and charm? 
It had proved the same of old with those classical 
freed women — Epicharis, staunch amid false knights 
and senators; and Panthea, perhaps Emma's own pro- 
totype, whose giftedness and " chiselled " beauty Lu- 
cian has extolled. Had she not from the first fed her 
inordinate fancy with grandiose reveries of achieve- 
ment ? Had she not burst her leading-strings ? More 
than all, had not Nelson, already in August, asked her 



214 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

to welcome " the remains of Horatio " ? And now, in 
this universal moment, she had both part and lot. Was 
it wonderful that, throbbing in every vein, she swooned 
to the ground and bruised her side with Nelson's letter 
in her hand? We have only to read the series of her 
correspondence at this date with Nelson, to realise her 
intoxication of rapture. 

But there was more than this. It often happens that 
when glowing and inflammable natures, such as hers 
and Nelson's, have dreamed united visions, the mere 
fulfilment links them irrevocably together. Mutual 
hope and mutual faith refuse to be sundered. The 
hero creates his heroine, the heroine worships her 
maker, who has transformed her in her own eyes as 
well as his. It is the old romance of Pygmalion and 
Galatea. He places her on a pedestal and in a shrine. 
Henceforth for Nelson, however misguided in outward 
" fact," Emma stands out adorable as Britannia. " She 
and the French fleet " are his all in all. His ecstasies 
in her honour spring from his firm conviction that but 
for her that mighty blow might never have been struck, 
nor Buonaparte crushed. Emma, for him, is England. 
He returns to her crowned not with " cypress," but 
laurels ever green. And she has plucked some of them 
for his wreath. He acknowledges that his was the first 
approach. As he wrote to her not three years later 
in a passage now first brought to light, " I want not to 
conquer any heart, if that which I have conquered is 
happy in its lot : I am confident, for the Conqueror 
is become the Conquered." 

And once more, with regard to Emma herself. She 
had never yet been free in her affections. Her devo- 
tion to Greville, her attachment to her husband, had 
grown up out of loyal gratitude, not from spontaneous 
choice, and the contrast first presented itself to her, 
not as an untutored girl, but as a skilled woman of the 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 215 

world. Sir William was now sixty-eight, Nelson just 
on forty — " I'dgc critique/' as the French term it. 
She firmly believed that she had helped his heroism to 
triumph ; he as firmly, that his battle had been half won 
through her aid. Both were susceptible. Both 
despised the crowd from which in character and cir- 
cumstances they stood apart. Emma's morality had 
been largely one of discretion. Nelson's was one of 
religion. If Nelson came to persuade himself that she 
was born to be his wife in the sight of God — and all 
his after expressions to her prove it — it would not be 
strange if such a woman, still beautiful, in a sybarite 
atmosphere where she was held up as a paragon, should 
throw discretion to the winds of chance. It was after 
some such manner that these problems of heart and 
temperament were already shaping themselves. 

Consult the first among those jubilant letters, a few 
excerpts from which have been quoted in the second 
chapter. They eclipse the very transports of the 
Queen, " mad with joy," and hysterically embracing 
all around her, whose own letter of that memorable 
Monday evening fully bears out Emma's account in 
these outpourings. She would rather have been a 
" powder-monkey in that great Victory than an Em- 
peror out of it." Her self-elation is all for Nelson. 
Posterity ought to worship the deliverer in every form 
and under every title. His statue should be " of pure 
gold." Her song is " See the Conquering Hero 
Comes," her strain is " Rule Britannia." Her gifts of 
voice and rhapsody are dedicated to these. For these 
she hymns the general joy, while the illuminations of 
her windows reflect the glow of her bosom. Nelson, 
Britain in excehis, down with the execrable Jacobins, a 
fig for foreign dictation — these are her refrains. Even 
her " shawl is in blue with gold anchors all over " ; her 
''earrings all Nelson anchors"; she wears a bandeau 



216 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

round her forehead with the words " Nelson and Vic- 
tory." Her " head will not permit " her to tell " half 
of the rejoicing." " The Neapolitans are mad, and 
if he was here now he would be killed with kindness." 
How can she " begin " to her " dear, dear Sir " ? Since 
the Monday when the tidings had been specially con- 
veyed to her, she has been " delirious with joy " and 
has " a fever caused by agitation and pleasure." She 
fell fainting and hurt herself at the news. " God, what 
a Victory ! Never, never has there been anything half 
so glorious, so complete." She would " feel it a 
glory to die in such a cause." " No, I would not like 
to die till I see and embrace the Victor of the Nile."' 
The care of the navy now engrosses her. There is 
nothing she will not do for any fellow-worker with 
the prince of men. Captain Hoste, her guest from 
September i, never forgot her tender kindness. She 
begged and procured from Lord St. Vincent Captain 
Bowen's promotion to the command of L'Aquilon. 
Directly Nelson had cut short his brief stay of con- 
valescence almost before the plaudits had died away, 
she sat down to write to the hero's wife, as she was to 
do again later in December. She tells her how Nelson 
is adored by King and Queen and people, "as if he 
had been their brother " ; how delighted they are with 
the stepson. She sends her Miss Knight's " ode." 
She enumerates with pride the royal presents; the sul- 
tan's aigrette and pelisse, which she " tastes " and 
" touches." She resents the inadequacy of his Gov- 
ernment's acknowledgment — "Hang them, / say!" 

Both she and Hamilton were soon, in Nelson's words 
to his wife, " seriously ill, first from anxiety and 
then from joy." 

But now she is '• preparing his apartments against 
he comes." On September 22 the Vanguard anchored 
in the bay, and he came. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 217 

The King and Queen had prepared a gorgeous ova- 
tion. It was midsummer weather, and a cloudless sky. 
No sooner was Nelson's small contingent descried off 
the rock of Tiberius at Capri, than the royal yacht, 
commanded by Caracciolo, draped with emblems and 
covered with spangled awnings, advanced three leagues 
out to meet him. On deck the music of Paisiello and 
of Cimarosa — at last pardoned for composing a repub- 
lican ode — resounded over the glassy waters, while a 
whole " serenata " of smaller craft followed in its 
wake and swelled the chorus. All the flower of the 
court, including the Hamiltons, was on board, where 
stood the King and the melancholy bride of the heir- 
apparent, Princess Clementina. The Queen, herself 
unwell, stayed at home and sent her grateful homage 
through Emma. As the procession started from the 
quay, citizen Garat, foiled and sullen, mewed in his 
palace with drawn blinds, caught from afar the strains 
of triumph, and vowed revenge. 

As the cortege neared the Vanguard, both the Ham- 
iltons, worn with fatigue and excitement, and the royal 
party, greeted him. The picture of their meeting is 
familiar. It has been painted in Nelson's own words to 
his wife : — " Alongside came my honoured friends : 
the scene in the boat was terribly affecting. Up flew 
her Ladyship, and exclaiming, ' O God ! Is it possible ? ' 
she fell into my arm more dead than alive. Tears, 
however, soon set matters to rights; when alongside 
came the King. The scene was in its way as interest- 
ing. He took me by the hand, calling me his ' Deliv- 
erer and Preserver,' with every other expression of 
kindness. In short, all Naples calls me ' Nostro 
Liberatore." My greeting from the lower classes was 
truly affecting. I hope some day to have the pleasure 
of introducing you to Lady Hamilton; she is one of 
the very best women in this world, she is an honour 



218 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

to her sex. Her kindness, with Sir William's to me, 
is more than I can express. I am in their house, and I 
may now tell you it required all the kindness of my 
friends to set me up. Lady Hamilton intends writing 
to you. God bless you ! " 

Little did Nelson yet reck of the ironies of the 
future. In this very letter he uses the warmest ex- 
pressions about his wife that had as yet appeared in any 
of his letters. Had he pursued his first intention of 
proceeding from Egypt to Syracuse, how much, be- 
sides Naples, might have been avoided ! Was he even 
now face to face with a passionate conflict ? 

During the twenty-three days that Nelson remained 
ashore, much happened besides rejoicing, and much 
had to be done. Not only did Nelson's wound (like 
his battered ships) require instant attention, but, as con- 
stantly happened with him, the protracted strain of 
nervous effort was followed by a severe fever. Lady 
Hamilton and her mother tended him; a brief visit 
with the Hamiltons to Castellamare, where Troubridge 
was refitting the maimed vessels, and a diet of " asses' 
milk " did much to mend his general health. Nor was 
it to him alone that Emma, herself ailing, ministered. 
Sir William was exhausted. The Queen was ill and 
miserable under the troubles gathering both at Malta 
and in the council-chamber; Captain Ball also needed 
her care, which he requited with an enthusiastic let- 
ter of thanks to " the best friend and patroness of the 
British Navy " ; Troubridge, too, was far from well at 
Castellamare ; many were in hospital. But Lady Ham- 
ilton owned the strength of highly-strung natures — the 
strength of spurts ; and she found time and energy for 
all her tasks. 

These good offices are here mentioned, among many 
more remaining for subsequent mention, because, in the 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 219 

future, after the fatal dividing line of her triumphal 
progress to Vienna with the Queen, her husband, and 
Nelson, they were all forgotten. She was to estrange 
some of her old admirers, who inveighed against her 
behind her back not only as ill-bred, but as artful. 
Beckford, for instance, who had hitherto praised her 
highly, became unkindly critical on her second visit to 
Fonthill in 1801 ; Miss Knight, her firm ally at this 
moment, turned the reverse of friendly. Troubridge 
(the baker's son, beloved and promoted by Nelson), 
who throughout had supported her, grew obstinate in 
antagonism both to her and him; while the seemly 
Elliots were shocked at her loudness and scorn of con- 
venances. Even the Queen's ardour cooled; and the 
English official world began to look askance at the 
trio, and to make merry over Samson and Delilah. 

Nelson's birthday gave full scope for a colossal 
demonstration at the English Embassy. Emma's huge 
assembly, where royalty and all the cream of society 
presided, was hardly an enjoyment for the worn con- 
queror. A " rostral column " of the classical pattern, 
with inscriptions celebrating his achievements, had 
been erected in the gay garden festooned with lamps, 
and alive with music. The artistic Miss Cornelia 
Knight (with her mother, a refugee from the terrors 
of war at Rome) added one more ode to the foreign 
thousands, and made a sketch of the scene. The festiv- 
ity was chequered by Josiah Nisbet, Nelson's scape- 
grace but petted stepson, who brawled with him in his 
cups, until Troubridge parted them, and ended the in- 
decent scuffle. That this arose from his habits, and 
not of design, is shown by Emma's affectionate refer- 
ences to him in her letter to his mother only four days 
afterwards. 

Nelson was dispirited, and disgusted not only with 
the " fiddlers " and loose dames of the court, but with 



220 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

its finicking petit mditre, Gallo, the foreign minister, all 
airs and pouncet; so afraid lest the wind should step 
between him and his nobility, that, solemn over trifles, 
he persistently dallied with the grave issues now at 
stake. The halting Acton himself proved energetic 
mainly in professions, though by the end of October 
Emma had won him also to their side. Not only had 
the " Grand Knights " of Malta, Hompesch the master, 
and Wittig, shown the white feather at Valetta, and 
left the French practically masters of the field, but in 
the Romagna and in Tuscany the enemy was daily gain- 
ing ground. Moreover, while the Queen was reassured 
as to the goodwill of the middle class and the Laz- 
zaroni, she now realised, as may be gathered from her 
letters, that the various factions of the nobles were 
— from separate motives — a nest of perfidy. Her hus- 
band trounced her as the cause of his woes, and despite 
his enthusiasm for the " hero," he remained in the 
Anglophobe party's clutches. The delaying Gallo was 
averse to open hostilities until Austria had engaged in 
offensive alliance, for the compact (which had been 
signed in July) only promised Austrian aid in the 
event of Naples itself being attacked. Russia had de- 
clared, the Porte was on the verge of declaring, war 
against the French Republic. The preceding May had 
seen yet another treaty between both these powers and 
Naples, binding the latter to furnish twelve ships and 
four hundred men for the coalition. Yet the Emperor, 
son-in-law to the Neapolitan Bourbons, still waited, 
and on him the King of Naples waited also, much more 
concerned with the impending birth of a grandchild 
who might inherit the throne, than with the portents of 
affairs. His disposition shunned reality, notwithstand- 
ing the fact, however, that he had sanctioned the sum- 
mons of General Mack from Vienna to command his 
forces. And, added to all these manifold preoccupa- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 221 

tions, Lady Spencer, who had acclaimed Nelson's tri- 
umph with " Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah," the wife of the 
first Lord of the British Admiralty, was now at Naples, 
and constantly with the Hamiltons and Nelson. 

From late September to early October Nelson and 
Emma were in frequent conference. The French had 
been attempting in Ireland what they had succeeded in 
doing at Naples : their complots with rebellion threat- 
ened all that was established. 

He divined the situation in its European bearings 
at a glance. She knew every twist and turn of the 
Neapolitan road, with all its buffoons, adventurers, and 
highwaymen; the tact of quick experience was hers. 
He, the masculine genius, created. She, the feminine, 
was receptive, interpretative. And, whatever may be 
urged or moralised, the human fact remains that she 
was a woman after his own heart, and he a man after 
hers. He was the first unselfish man who had as yet 
been closely drawn towards her. However unlike in 
upbringing, in environment, in standing — above all, in 
things of the spirit, in passionate energy, in courage, in 
romance, in " sensibility " and enthusiasm they were 
affinities. 

The result of these consultations is shown by the 
long draft of a letter outlining a policy, which Nelson 
drew up as a lever for Emma herself to force the 
court into decision, and which formed the basis of a 
shorter letter that has been published. He emphasised 
" the anxiety which you and Sir William have always 
had for the happiness and welfare of their Sicilian 
Majesties." He pointed out that the mass of the 
Neapolitans were loyally eager to try conclusions with 
France; that Naples was her natural "plunder," but 
that the ministers were " lulled into a false security," 
and a prey " to the worst of all policies, that of pro- 
crastination." He dwelt on Garat's insolence, and 



222 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the readiness of the Neapolitan army to march into 
the Romagna " ready to receive them." He hoped 
that Mack's imminent arrival would brace ministers 
into resolution. He welcomed with admiring respect a 
" dignified " letter from the Queen, according with 
his own favourite quotation from Chatham, " the bold- 
est measures are the safest." He presented his mani- 
festo as a " preparitive " and as " the unalterable 
opinion of a British Admiral anxious to approve him- 
self a faithful servant to his sovereign by doing - 
everything in his power for the happiness and dignity 
of their Sicilian Majesties." To Sir William he 
would write separately. He recognised the signs of 
revolution, and already he sounded the note of warn- 
ing. He recommended that their " persons and prop- 
erty " should be ready in case of need for embarkation 
at the shortest notice. If " the present ruinous sys- 
tem of procrastination " persevered, it would be his 
" duty " to provide for the safety not only of the Ham- 
iltons, but of " the amiable Queen of these kingdoms 
and her family." 

The address of this paper to Emma, the emphasis 
of the Queen's letter, the promise of a separate one to 
Hamilton, show that the document was intended for 
the Queen's eye alone, and point to the suggestion of 
it by Emma herself. We shall see that while Sir 
William was pushing affairs with the English Gov- 
ernment, Emma, during Nelson's absence in the Adri- 
atic and the Mediterranean, was practically to be Am- 
bassador at Naples. 

Next day Nelson ordered Ball to Malta with the ex- 
pressed objects not only of intercepting French com- 
munications with Egypt, of the island's blockade, and 
of co-operation with the Turkish and Russian fleets in 
the Archipelago, but specially of protecting the Sicilian 
and Neapolitan coasts. So annoyed was he at the 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 223 

King's inaction, that he even told Lord Spencer that 
" Naples sees this squadron no more, except the King," 
who is losing " the glorious moments," " calls for our 
help." By mid-October Nelson himself had set out 
first for Malta, and, after a brief interval of return, for 
the deliverance of Leghorn. Before the month's close 
the King and General Mack had started on their ill- 
starred campaign; before the year's end a definitive 
Anglo-Sicilian alliance had been signed, and Gren- 
ville's former attitude reversed. 

The very day of Nelson's departure drew from him 
the tribute to Lady Hamilton which was in Pettigrew's 
possession, and a facsimile of which accompanied the 
first volume of his Memoirs of Lord Nelson. 

" I honour and respect you," it ran, " and my dear 
friend Sir William Hamilton, and believe me ever your 
faithful and affectionate Nelson " — the first letter, as 
" his true friend " Emma recorded on it, written to 
her " after his dignity to the peerage." 

The girl who, after the bartering Greville trampled 
upon her affections, had been gained into grateful at- 
tachment by Hamilton, with the covert resolve of be- 
coming his wife and winning her spurs in the political 
tournament, had at length carved a career. Greville's 
neglect of her self-sacrifice had not hardened her, but 
her tender care of Sir William was fast assuming a 
new complexion. She had twice saved his life; she 
had perpetually urged his activities; she still watched 
over him. But, under her standards of instinct and 
experience, she was half gravitating towards the per- 
suasion that they might warrant her in taking her fate 
into her own hands. She hated " half measures " ; 
neck or nothing, she would realise herself. Her chief 
cravings remained as yet unsatisfied. Womanlike, she 
had yearned for true sympathy. Here was one willing 
and eager to listen. She had long been in love with 



224 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

glory. Here was a hero who personified it. She had 
sighed for adventures in the grand style. Here was 
opportunity. She wavered on the verge of a new 
temptation. She felt as though her wandering soul 
had at last found its way. Yet, in reality, she still 
groped in a maze of contending emotions, nor would 
she stop to inquire by what clue her quick steps were 
hurrying her: the moment was all in all. She still 
identified her intense friendship with her husband's. 
Disloyalty still revolted her in its masked approaches; 
and yet she struggled, half-consciously, with a " faith 
unfaithful " that was to keep her " falsely true." 

Omitting further historical detail, we may turn at 
once to the part played by Emma with the Queen at 
Caserta as her hero's vice-gerent during his nine weeks' 
absence. Her heart was with the ships, and she pined 
to quit the ville ggiatura for Naples. 

It was, in her own words, with Nelson's " spirit " 
that Emma inflamed the Queen, from whom she was 
now inseparable. The King still looked to Austria, 
and thought of little else but his daughter-in-law's 
coming confinement. The Queen, who had hesitated, 
at last caught the promptness of Nelson's policy. Gen- 
eral Mack had arrived, but a thousand official obstacles 
impeded his preparations. " He does not go to visit 
the frontiers," wrote Emma to Nelson, " but is now 
working night and day, and then goes for good, and I 
tell her Majesty, for God's sake, for the country's 
sake, and for your own sake, send him off as soon as 
possible, no time to be lost, and I believe he goes after 
to-morrow." The suppression of the Irish rebellion 
had removed yet another spoke from the Republican 
wheel. " I translate from our papers," said Emma, 
" to inspire her or them, I should say, with some of 
your spirit and energy. How delighted we both were 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 225 

to speak of you. She loves, respects, and admires you. 
For myself, I will leave you to guess my feelings. Poor 
dear Troubridge stayed that night with us to com- 
fort us. What a good dear soul he is. . . . He is to 
come down soon, and I am to present him. She sees 
she could not feel happy if she had not an English ship 
here to send off. . , . How we abused Gallo yester- 
day. How she hates him. He won't reign long — 
so much the better. . . . You are wanted at Caserta. 
AH their noddles are not worth yours." There were 
affectionate mentions of Tyson and Hardy, with the 
hope that the " Italian spoil-stomach sauce of a dirty 
Neapolitan " might not hurt the invalid, but that per- 
haps Nelson's steward provided him u with John Bull's 
Roast and Boil." Then followed her enthusiasm over 
Nelson's honours, and her wrath at the stint of home 
recognition, which have been echoed already. In the 
same long letter, containing, as was her wont, the diary 
of a week, she resumes her political story. She and 
her Queen had been ecstatic over the Sultan's lavish ac- 
knowledgments of Nelson's victory. 

" The Queen says that, after the English she loves 
the Turks, and she has reason, for, as to Vienna, the 
ministers deserve to be hanged, and if Naples is saved, 
no thanks to the Emperor. For he is kindly leaving 
his father in the lurch. We have been two days des- 
perate on account of the weak and cool acting of the 
Cabinet of Vienna. Thugut must be gained; but the 
Emperor — oh, but he is a poor sop, a machine in the 
hands of his corrupted ministers. The Queen is in a 
rage. . . . Sunday last, two couriers, one from Lon- 
don, one from Vienna; the first with the lovely news 
of a fleet to remain in the Mediterranean, and a treaty 
made of the most flattering kind for Naples. In short, 
everything amicable . . . and most truly honourable. 
T'other from their dear son and daughter, cold, un- 



226 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

friendly, mistrustful, Frenchified; and saying plainly, 
help yourselves. How the dear Maria Carolina cried 
for joy at the one and rage at the other. But Mack 
is gone to the army to prepare all to march immedi- 
ately." And here, too, is the place of that dramatic 
outburst, cited in the Prelude, where Emma extended 
her left arm, like Nelson, and " painted the drooping 
situation," stimulating the Queen's decision in face of 
those hampering obstacles on the part of Gallo and the 
King, which proved so unconscionable a time in dying. 
" In short, there was a council, and it was decided to 
march out and help themselves; and, sure, their poor 
fool of a son will not, cannot but come out. He must 
bring 150,000 men in the Venetian State. The French 
could be shut in between the two armies, Italy cleared, 
and peace restored. I saw a person from Milan yes- 
terday, who says that a small army would do, for the 
Milanese have had enough of liberty." She depicts the 
horrid state of that capital, the starvation side by side 
with the rampant licentiousness of the Jacobins " put- 
ting Virtue out of countenance by their . . . libertin- 
age. . . . So, you see, a little would do. Now is the 
moment, and, indeed, everything is going on as we 
could wish." Emma has been hitherto and often 
painted as the Queen's mouthpiece. She was really 
Nelson's, and her intuition had grasped his mastership 
of the political prospect. Was she not right in de- 
claring that she had " spurred them on " ? The Queen 
had been actually heartened into resolving on a 
regency, a new fact which reveals the political di- 
vergences between the royal pair at this period. " The 
King is to go in a few days, never to return. The 
regency is to be in the name of the Prince Royal, but 
the Queen will direct all. Her head is worth a thou- 
sand. I have a pain in my head, . . . and must go 
take an airing. . . . May you live long, long, long 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 227 

for the sake of your country, your King, your family, 
all Europe, Asia, Africa, and America [Emma is on 
her stilts once more], and for the scourge of France, 
but particularly for the happiness of Sir William and 
self, who love you, admire you, and glory in your 
friendship." Sir William's new name for Nelson was 
now " the friend of our hearts." And these hearts 
were certainly stamped with his image : — " Your statue 
ought to be made of pure gold and placed in the mid- 
dle of London. Never, never was there such a battle, 
and if you are not regarded as you ought and I wish, 
I will renounce my country and become either a 
Mameluke or a Turk. The Queen yesterday said to 
me, the more I think on it, the greater I find it, and I 
feel such gratitude to the warrior, . . . my respect is 
such, that I could fall at his honoured feet and kiss 
them. You that know us both, and how alike we are 
in many things, that is, I as Emma Hamilton, she as 
Queen of Naples, imagine us both speaking of you. 
... I would not be a lukewarm friend for the world. 
I . . . cannot make friendships with all, but the few 
friends I have, I would die for them. ... I told her 
Majesty we only wanted Lady Nelson to be the female 
Tria juncta in uno, for we all love you, and yet all 
three differently, and yet all equally, if you can make 
that out." . . . And Lady Nelson, accordingly, she 
congratulated twice, both on the Queen's behalf and 
her own. 

Nelson returned for a fortnight in the earlier days 
of November, more than ever dissatisfied with the 
Neapolitan succours and the Portuguese co-operation 
at Malta. There, with strong significance in view of 
next year's crisis at Naples, he had notified the French, 
who rejected his overtures, that he would certainly dis- 
regard any capitulation into which the Maltese General 
might afterwards be forced to enter. He learned the 

Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 8 



228 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

decision for definite war, and the King's reluctant con- 
sent at length to accompany the army to Rome. No 
sooner had Garat been dismissed, than the French de- 
clared war also. Force, then, must repel force, for 
the Ligurian Republic meant nothing but France in 
Italy. Throughout, moreover, Nelson's guiding aim 
was the destruction of Jacobinism, which, indeed, he 
regarded as anti-Christ. He collected his forces and 
set out for Leghorn, which soon surrendered (although 
Buonaparte's brother Louis escaped the blockade), 
landing once more at Naples in the first week of De- 
cember. At first Mack and the Neapolitan troops pre- 
vailed, and Prince Moliterno's valour covered the 
cowardice of his troops. The King entered Rome; 
the Queen's mercurial hopes ran high. But her ex- 
ultation was short-lived. Before the end of the first 
week in December Carolina wrote to her confidante 
that she now pitied the King intensely, and " would be 
with him." " God only knows what evils are in re- 
serve. I am deeply affected by it, and expect every 
day something more terrible. The good only will be 
the victims. . . . Mack is in despair, and has rea- 
son to be so." The French Berthier proved an abler, 
though not a braver, general than the Austrian, but 
Mack had raw and wretched levies under his com- 
mand; his officers were bribed and their men deserted. 
Rome was retaken; a retreat became unavoidable, and 
by the second week in December that retreat had al- 
ready become a rout. From the close of November 
onwards the Queen grew more and more despondent, 
though Duckworth's naval success at Minorca, the 
promise by the Czar Paul of his fleet, and the retire- 
ment of the Republicans from Frosinone had cheered 
her. She was very ill, and fresh home conspiracies 
were in course of discovery. 

Emma still lingered in her neighbourhood at Caserta. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 229 

Beseeching Nelson not to go ashore at Leghorn, and 
rejoicing at the unfounded rumour that his " dear, ven- 
erable father " had been made a bishop, she informed 
him that the King had at length issued a clear mani- 
festo. The army had marched, the Queen had just 
gone to pray for them in the cathedral. She announced 
the King's triumphal entry into Rome from Frascati ; 
she hoped the best from the battle of Velletri, fought 
even as she writes. " Everybody here," she assured 
Nelson, " prays for you. Even the Neapolitans say 
mass for you, but Sir William and I are so anxious 
that we neither eat, drink, nor sleep; and till you are 
safely landed and come back we shall feel mad." The 
secret of Nelson's movements and preparations she 
will never betray, nor would red-hot torture wrest it 
from her. " We send you one of your midshipmen, 
left here by accident; . . . pray don't punish him. 
Oh! I had forgot I would never ask favours, but you 
are so good I cannot help it." And then follows a tell- 
tale passage : " We have got Josiah. How glad I was 
to see him. Lady Knight, Miss Knight, Carrol, and 
Josiah dined to-day with us, but alas! your place at 
table was occupied by Lady K. I could have cried, 
I felt so low-spirited." 

Is it a wonder that Nelson was moved? One can 
hear how her confidence impressed him. Shortly after 
his return he frankly avowed, " My situation in this 
country has had, doubtless, one rose, but it has been 
plucked from a bed of thorns." This, then, was no 
waxen camellia, but a rose whose fresh scent contrasted 
with the hot atmosphere of the court and the prickles 
of perpetual vexation. 

The reader must judge whether such efforts and 
appeals, this developing energy and tenderness, were 
the manoeuvres of craft. It is patent from the corre- 
spondence that Emma's interjectional letters, which 



230 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

think aloud, answer epistles from Nelson of even 
tenor. A comparison, moreover, with her girlish 
epistles to Greville shows a sameness of quality that 
will stand the same test. She remains " the same 
Emma." 

Nelson rejoined the Hamiltons at a critical moment. 
His wise forecast that unless Ferdinand and Maria 
coveted the fate of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, 
flight alone could save them, was fast being justified. 
The nobles, jealous of English influence, were now 
thoroughly disaffected. Gathering reverses incensed 
a populace that was only too likely to be frenzied 
should their King prefer escape Sicilyward to trust in 
their tried loyalty. As yet Naples had been free from 
the French, but the likelihood of invasion grew daily; 
and even in June Neapolitan neutrality had been known 
to be merely nominal. The proud Queen, as we shall 
find when the dreaded moment arrived, would rather 
have welcomed death than retreat. But Acton, at 
present in Rome, had slowly come to concur with the 
trio of the Embassy. 

The melodrama of the actual escape, on which new 
manuscripts cast fresh lights, must be reserved for a 
separate chapter. " The devil take most Kings and 
Queens, I say, for they are shabbier than their sub- 
jects ! " had been Sir Joseph Banks's exclamation to Sir 
William Hamilton in 1795. At this present end of 
1798 the devil (or Buonaparte) proved especially busy 
in this particular branch of his business. 



CHAPTER VIII 

FLIGHT 

December, 1798 — January, 1799 

IT is clear all along that Emma chafed against 
vegetation. Tameness and sameness wearied her, 
and she longed for historical adventures. She 
had now lit on a thrilling one indeed. To aid in plan- 
ning, preparing, deciding, and executing a royal escape 
in the midst of revolution, on the brink of invasion, 
and at the risk of life, was a task the romance and 
the danger of which allured her dramatic fancy. That 
it did not repeat the blunders of Varennes was largely 
owing to Nelson's foresight and her own indefatigable 
energy. And omens — for they each believed in them — 
must have appeared to both. Before the battle of the 
Nile a white bird had perched in his cabin. He and 
Emma marked the same white bird when the King was 
restored in the following July ; and Nelson always de- 
clared that he saw it again before Copenhagen, though 
it was missed at Trafalgar. It was his herald of vic- 
tory. Nor under the auspices of triumph was death 
also ever absent from the thoughts of the man, who 
accepted, as a welcome present from a favoured Cap- 
tain, the coffin made from a mast of the ruined 
L' Orient. 

For flight Emma had not influenced her friend: it 
was Nelson's project. " If things take an unfortunate 
turn here," she had written to Nelson two months be- 

231 



232 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

fore, " and the Queen dies at her post, I will remain 
with her. If she goes, I follow her." 

The second week of December proved to the Queen 
that events were inexorable, and her selfish son-in-law 
cold and unmoved : he shifted with the political 
barometer. She had despatched her courier, Rosen- 
heim, to Vienna, but he only returned with ill tidings. 
Vienna would " give no orders." In vain she sup- 
plicated her daughter, " may your dear husband be our 
saviour." The Emperor flatly refused his aid. His 
subjects now desired peace, and the Neapolitans must 
" help themselves." If Naples were assailed, the 
Austrian treaty, it is true, would entitle reinforcements 
from Vienna. But even so, the poorness of their 
troops, and the grudging inclination of their ruler, 
left the issue but little mended. The Queen was in 
despair. The French excuse for war had been the al- 
leged breach of their treaty by the watering of the 
British fleet. A threatening army of invaders was al- 
ready known to be on its way; yet still she hoped 
against hope, and hesitated over the final plunge. She 
despatched Gallo to Vienna to beseech her son-in-law 
once more. She cursed the treaty of Campoformio, 
to which she attributed the whole sad sequel of dis- 
aster. She vowed that her own kinsfolk were leagued 
together in spite against " the daughter " and the 
grandchildren " of the great Maria Theresa." When 
the news fell like a thunderbolt that Mack's case was 
desperate, the French troops in occupation of Castel 
St. Angelo, and her husband about to scurry out of 
Rome, those children could only " weep and pray." 
The fact that the Jacobins — the " right-minded," as 
they already styled themselves — welcomed each crown- 
ing blow as a help to their cause, heightened the humil- 
iation. The Queen, slighted and indignant, betook 
herself to Nelson and to Emma. They both pressed 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 233 

anew the urgent necessity of flight; she disdained it. 
It was a " fresh blow to her soul and spirit " ; h^ orig- 
inal plan had been to have gone with her children else- 
where. Its bare possibility was difficult to realise; 
and, after her husband's ashamed return, the popular 
ferment seemed to bar its very execution. She dreaded 
a repetition of Varennes. In the midst of brawl and 
tumult the King returned, and, faltering, showed him- 
self on his balcony. Lusty shouts of " You will not 
go ! We will deal with the Jacobins ! " burst from the 
surging crowd. A spy was knifed in the open streets, 
and the false nobles cast the blame on the Queen. She 
should be held blood-guilty. In bitter agony she ap- 
prised her daughter that death was preferable to such 
dishonour. She would die every inch a Queen. " I 
have renounced this world," wrote Maria Theresa's 
true offspring, " I have renounced my reputation as 
wife and mother. I am preparing to die, and making 
ready for an eternity for which I long. This is all 
that is left to me." Even when she had been brought 
to the last gasp of obeying her kind friends and her 
hard fate, her letters to Vienna sound the tone of one 
stepping to the scaffold. While the furious mob 
growled and groaned outside, her last requests to her 
daughter were for her husband and children. On the 
very edge of her secret start, the advices that General 
Burchardt had marched his thousand men, if not 
with flying colours, at least in fighting trim, so far as 
Isoletta, may have once more made her rue her forced 
surrender. 

But meanwhile the Hamiltons, Nelson, and Acton 
were in determined and close consultation, with Emma 
for Nelson's interpreter. The establishment of the 
Ligurian Republic had for some time boded the cer- 
tainty of Buonaparte's designs against the Two Sicilies. 
The General had at first written to Sir William with 



234 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

some sang-froid of the " troublesome and dangerous 
circumstances " of the " crisis," but within a few days 
he was a zealous co-operator. Nelson, above all men, 
would never have counselled a base desertion. But he 
knew the real circumstances, the general perfidy, the 
Austrian weakness, both playing into the hands of the 
French. Already, to his knowledge, the aggressor's 
footfall was audible, and, after General Mack's fiasco, 
no resources were left at home. His firm resolve was 
to await the moment when he might deal a fresh 
death-blow to Buonaparte, and meanwhile to seize the 
first opportunity for crushing the Neapolitan Jacobins 
and reinstating the Neapolitan King. For him the 
cause symbolised not despotism against freedom, not 
the progress from law to liberty, but discipline and 
patriotism against license and anarchy. He had sum- 
moned ships to protect the Vanguard: the Cnlloden 
with Troubridge from the north and west coasts of 
Italy, the Goliath from off Malta, the Alcmene under 
Captain Hope from Egypt. After ordering the block- 
ade of Genoa, he had ironically asked if the King was 
at war with its flag. He had foreseen that "within 
six months the Neapolitan Republic would be armed, 
organised, and called forth," that malingering Austria 
was herself in extremis. 

They urged the Queen to prepare for the worst ; and 
from December 17 onwards, while their measures were 
being concerted, Emma superintended the gradual 
transport from the palace of valuables both private and 
public. The process occupied her night and day for 
nearly a week, and required the strictest secrecy and 
caution. Some she may have fetched, some she re- 
ceived, many she stowed. 

Criticism, biassed, may be, by anxiety to impugn 
Emma's latest memorial, makes much of evidence in a 
few isolated letters, indicating that the Queen for- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 235 

warded some of her effects by trusted messengers, and 
omitting that Emma caused any herself to be carried 
from the palace to the Embassy. The detail is not 
very material, since her assistance is evident, even if 
her memory enlarged it. The very bulk of the many 
chests and boxes to be removed was to cause a danger- 
ous delay in the eventual voyage. They were con- 
veyed in different ways, some on shipboard (among 
them the public treasure), others, including jewels and 
linen, by the hands of the servant Saverio; others 
again to be transported by Emma herself. The Queen, 
in one of her almost hourly notes, expressly hoped that 
she was not " indiscreet in sending these," thereby sug- 
gesting that various means of conveyance had been used 
for some of the rest. In another, too, she excused her- 
self for her " abuse of your kindnesses and that of our 
brave Admiral." Nelson's official account to Lord St. 
Vincent stated that " Lady Hamilton " from Decem- 
ber 14 to 21 " received the jewels, etc." Emma's own 
recital to Greville, less than a fortnight after the ter- 
rors of the journey were past, included as the least of 
her long fatigues that " for six nights before the em- 
barkation " she " sat up " at her own house " receiving 
all the jewels, money and effects of the royal family, 
and from thence conveying them on board the Van- 
guard, living in fear of being torn to pieces by the 
tumultuous mob, who suspected our departure," but 
" Sir William and I being beloved in the Country saved 
us." Sir William himself informed Greville that 
" Emma has had a very principal part in this delicate 
business, as she is, and has been for several years 
the real and only confidential friend of the Oueen of 
Naples." 

In the pathos of the Queen's letters to Emma resides 
their true interest. Maria Carolina's anguish in- 
creased as the plot for her preservation thickened; she 



236 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

clung piteously to the strong arms of Emma and Nel- 
son, who really managed the whole business. Sobs 
and tears, paroxysms of scorn and sighs of rage more 
and more pervade them, as one by one the strongholds 
of her country yield or are captured. She is " the 
most unfortunate of Queens, mothers, women, but 
Emma's sincerest friend." It is to her " habitually " 
that she " opens her heart." Emma's indorsements 
may serve as an index : — " My adorable, unfortunate 
Queen. God bless and protect her and her august 
family." " Dear, dear Queen " — " Unfortunate 
Queen." More than a month earlier she had protested 
to Nelson her readiness, if need be, to accompany her 
to the block. One of these billets tristes of the Queen 
to her friend encloses a little blue-printed picture. It 
is an elegiac. A wreathed Amorino pipes mournfully 
beside a cypress-shadowed tomb, behind which two 
Cupids are carelessly dancing : on the tomb is inscribed 
" Embarque je vous en prie. M. C." — Emma's mel- 
ancholy refrain to the would-be martyr. 

Prince Belmonte, now chamberlain, acted as the 
King's agent with Caracciolo in effecting a scheme full 
of difficulty, owing to the great number of the refugees, 
the ridiculous etiquette of precedences, insisted on even 
at such an hour, the vast quantity of their united bag- 
gage, the avowed designs of the French Directory, the 
covert conspiracies of false courtiers in which the War 
Minister himself was implicated, the fierceness of pop- 
ular tumult, and the Jacobin spies who kept a sharp 
lookout on Nelson, but were foiled by Emma's and the 
Queen's adroitness. 

The plan originally concerted was as follows. The 
escape was to happen on the night of the 20th. After 
the last instalments of treasure and detachments of 
foreigners had been safely and ceremoniously depos- 
ited on board their several vessels, Count Thurn (an 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 237 

Austrian admiral of the Neapolitan navy) would at- 
tend outside the secret passage leading from the royal 
rooms to the " Molesiglio," or little quay, to receive 
Nelson or his nominees. It is said that Brigadier Ca- 
racciolo had begged to convoy the royal party and 
float the royal standard on his frigate, but had been 
dryly denied; and this, perhaps, was the first prick to 
that treacherous revenge which six months later he was 
to expiate by his death. 

But on a sudden, at the eleventh hour, the whole was 
put off till the next evening. The chests in which some 
of the treasure had been bestowed on the Alcmene 
were rotten; at least this was one of the pretexts 
which Nelson, who had already signed orders for safe 
conduct, one possibly referring to the royalties, evi- 
dently mistrusted. On this eventful day at least six 
communications passed between Hamilton and Acton 
(if the inclosures from the palace are included), and 
Nelson, prompt and impatient, was acutely irritated. 
In vain Acton expressed his acquiescence. He was " in 
hopes that these few hours will not exasperate more 
than at present our position." Nelson remained po- 
lite, but decided. The fact was that both King and 
Queen waited on Providence at the last gasp. The 
former dreaded to desert his people at the moment of 
defeat; the latter feared a step which, if futile, might 
irreparably alienate her husband, and must render her 
execrable to the faithful Lazzaroni. 

By means of the old manuscripts the scene rises 
vividly before us. Within the precincts of the palace, 
flurry, dissension, wavering perplexity, confusion, a 
spectral misery. In its purlieus, treason. Outside, a 
seditious loyalty withholding the King from the Queen. 
In the council-chamber, Belmonte, serene and punc- 
tilious; Gallo, dainty in danger; Caracciolo, jealous 
and sullen; Acton, slow, doubtful, and stolid. At the 



238 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

English Embassy alone reigned vigilance, resolve, and 
resourcefulness. Every English merchant (and there 
Were many both here and at Leghorn) looked to Nel- 
son and Hamilton and Emma. Among phantoms 
these were realities. On them alone counted those 
poor " old demoiselles of France " who had sought 
asylum in the Neapolitan palace. On them alone hung 
the destinies of a dynasty threatened at home, forsaken 
abroad, and faced with the certainty of invasion. They 
stood for the British fleet, and the British fleet for 
the salvation of Europe. 

The ominous morning dawned of the 21st. 

All that day General Acton pelted Nelson and Ham- 
ilton with contradictory announcements, of which no 
fewer than seven remain. At first he agrees that the 
moment has come when " no time should be lost," but 
the inevitable proviso follows — " If the wind does not 
blow too hard." He next writes that, in such a case, all 
had best be deferred afresh. The Alcmene, too, with 
the bullion on board — as much as two million and a 
half sterling — was off Posilippo, and its signals might 
alarm the angry crowds, clamouring for their King at 
Santa Lucia, and on the Chiaja. Another billet prom- 
ises the " King's desire " as soon forthcoming. In 
another, once more, grave consideration is devoted to 
the usual retiring hour of the young princes, and to 
the " feeding-time " of the King's grandchild, the babe 
in arms of the heir-apparent and Princess Clementina, 
which had been so anxiously awaited in October ; " a 
sucking child," says Acton in a crowning instance of 
unconscious humour, " makes a most dreadful spec- 
tacle to the eyes of the servant women and in the 
rest of the family." Nelson, pressing for expedition, 
must have been beside himself over the precious mo- 
ments thus being squandered. What Acton remarks 
in one of these letters, once more in his peculiar Eng- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 239 

lish, applies also to his own communications, " Heav- 
ings from every side . . . contradictions from every 
corner." 

Nelson, however, would brook no more trifling. 
Everything should be settled by about seven. Count 
Thurn should be at the appointed rendezvous, the 
Molesiglio. His password, unless some unexpected 
force intervened, was to be the English, " All goes 
right and well"; otherwise, "All is wrong, you may 
go back. 3 ' 

One can imagine the unfortunate Count rehearsing 
his provoking part that afternoon with an Austrian ac- 
cent : " Al goes raight " — " Al ccs vrong." 

Acton and Caracciolo drew up the order of em- 
barkation. By half-past eight the royal contingent, 
convoyed by Nelson and his friends' through the secret 
passage to the little quay, were to have been rowed on 
board the Vanguard. It comprised besides the King, 
Queen, the Hereditary Prince with his wife and in- 
fant (whose " zafatta," or nurse, was no less a per- 
sonage than the Duchess of Gravina), the little Prince 
Albert, to whom Emma was devoted (with his "za- 
fatta" also), Prince Leopold, the three remaining 
princesses, Acton, Princes Castelcicala and Belmonte, 
Thurn, and the court physician Vincenzo Ruzzi. The 
second embarkation was to follow two hours later with 
a great retinue, including, it is interesting for Men- 
delssohn-admirers to notice, the name of " Bartoldi." 
The rest were to proceed in three several detachments, 
amounting to nearly four hundred souls, noble and 
otherwise, among whom Joseph Acton's family are 
specified. The two royal spinsters of France were 
to be conducted with every precaution by land to 
Portici, whence they might find their way over the 
border. All friendly Ambassadors were to be notified. 
Such was the routine. It should be especially noticed 



240 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

that from these exact lists, detailing the names of every 
passenger, the Hamiltons are absent. They were un- 
der Nelson's care, and of his party — a point most ma- 
terial to the future narrative substantiating Lady Ham- 
ilton's own subsequent story. And it must further be 
emphasised that these Acton letters, as well as a refer- 
ence in one of the Queen's, go far to establish the plan 
of the secret passage as an historical fact, instead 
of as any figment or after-inlay of Emma's imagi- 
nation. 

As night drew on Maria Carolina sat down to indite 
two letters, the one to her daughter at Vienna, the other 
to Emma, who would rejoin her so soon in this crisis 
of her fate. She wrote them amid horrors and in 
wretchedness. The army could no more be trusted. 
Even the navy was in revolt. Orders had been given 
that, after the royal departure, the remaining ships 
were to be burned lest they should fall into French or 
revolutionary hands. As she wrote, the tidings came 
that the miserable Vanni — the creature of her in- 
quisition — had shot himself dead, and she loads herself 
with reproaches. Massacre continued ; the very French 
emigres were not spared by the Italian Jacobins. 
Everywhere tumult, disgrace, bloodshed. The crowd, 
calmed for a moment, still howled at intervals for their 
King, whose departure they now suspected. The 
" cruel determination " had been foisted on her. Once 
on board, the Queen tells the empress, " God help us, 
. . . saved, but ruined and dishonoured." To Lady 
Hamilton she repeats the same distracted burden. 
Discipline has vanished. " Unbridled " license grows 
hourly. Their " concert with their liberator " is their 
mainstay. Her last thoughts are for the safety of 
friends and dependants, whom she confides by name to 
Emma's charge. Her torn heart bleeds. Mack 
despairs also, for Aquila is taken, " to the eternal 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 241 

shame of our country." She trembles for the horrors 
that a cowardly people may commit. 

The sky was clouded. There was a lull in the strong 
wind off the shore, but a heavy ground-swell prevailed 
as the appointed hour approached. The royal party 
anxiously waited in their apartments — the Queen's 
room with its dark exit, so familiar to the romantic 
Emma, — for the signal which should summon them 
through the tunnel to the water-side. On the Mole- 
siglio, and at his station near the Arsenal, stood Thurn, 
muffled and ill at ease. It was the night of a recep- 
tion given in Nelson's honour by Kelim Effendi, the 
bearer from the Sultan of his " plume of triumph." 

The exact sequence of what now occurred is difficult, 
but possible, to collect from the three contemporary 
and, at first sight, conflicting documents that survive. 
There is the Queen's own brief recital to her daughter. 
There is Nelson's dry official despatch to Lord St. Vin- 
cent, accentuating, however, Emma's conspicuous 
services. There are Emma's own hurried lines to 
Greville, thirteen days after that awful voyage, which, 
for three days and nights, deprived her of sleep and 
strained every faculty of mind and body. 

Let us try to ascertain the truth by collation. Nel- 
son's account is brief and doubtless accurate : — 

"On the 2 1 st, at 8.30 p.m., three barges with my- 
self and Captain Hope landed at a corner of the Ar- 
senal. I went into the palace and brought out the 
whole royal family, put them into the boats, and at 
9.30 they were all safely on board." 

It is an official statement, which naturally omits the 
Count in waiting, the password, the mysteries of the 
secret corridor, which Acton in his letters, confirming 
Emma's after account, had arranged with Nelson. 

The Queen's short notice to the Empress of Austria 
{hitherto unmarked) makes no mention of Emma's 



242 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

name — the Queen never does in any of her letters to 
her daughter — but further corroborates the melodrama 
of the secret staircase winding down to the little 
quay : — 

" We descended — all our family, ten in number, with 
the utmost secrecy, in the dark, without our women 
or any one, and in two boats. Nelson was our guide." 

Now let us listen carefully to Emma's own graphic 
narrative. The hours named in it do not tally with 
Nelson's, and after the long strain of the tragic occur- 
rences, culminating in the death of the little Prince 
Albert, she may well have been confused. They are 
really irrelevant. The point is the real sequence and 
substance of events, which, more or less, must have 
stayed in her immediate remembrance. It will be 
found that her vivid words bear a construction dif- 
ferent from that which might appear at the first blush, 
and it should be borne in mind that no possible motive 
for distorting the facts can be alleged in this friendly 
communication to her old friend : — 

" On the 2 ist at ten at night, Lord Nelson, Sir Wm., 
Mother and self went out to pay a visit, sent all our 
servants away, and ordered them in 2 hours to come 
with the coach, and ordered supper at home. When 
they were gone, we sett off, walked to our boat, and 
after two hours got to the Vanguard. Lord N. then 
went with armed boats to a secret passage adjoining to 
the pallace, got up the dark staircase that goes into the 
Queen's room, and with a dark lantern, cutlasses, 
pistols, etc., brought off every soul, ten in number, to 
the Vanguard at twelve o'clock. If we had remained 
to the next day, we shou'd have all been imprisoned." 

Reading this account loosely, it might be imagined 
that Emma transposed the true order; that Nelson, 
stealing with the Hamiltons away from the reception, 
first brought them on board, and afterwards returned 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 243 

for the royal fugitives. But the reverse of this ad- 
mits of proof from her own statement. She, with her 
family and Nelson, quitted the party at (as she here 
puts it) ten. It took them two hours to reach the Van- 
guard. Nelson saved the royalties, who were not on 
board till " twelve." It is obvious, therefore, that 
(whatever the precise hour) the Hamiltons and Mrs. 
Cadogan arrived on the Vanguard at the selfsame mo- 
ment as the King, the Queen, their children, and grand- 
child. The misimpression arises from the phrasing 
" Lord Nelson then went with armed boats," etc., fol- 
lowing the previous statement of their being at their 
destination " after two hours." But this " then" as 
so often in Emma's thinking-aloud letters, seems an 
enclitic merely carrying on disjointed sentences. It 
may be no mark of time at all, but a mere reference to 
what happened after they hastened from the enter- 
tainment, having ordered everything as if they intended 
to remain until its close. Otherwise they must have 
" got to " the Vanguard long before the King and 
Queen, which, by her own recollection in this letter, 
they do not. It will be noted from Nelson's recital 
that the Vanguard could be reached in an hour. 

What happened, then, seems to be this. After their 
hurried exit, the Hamiltons accompanied Nelson on 
foot. The Acton correspondence shows that, as has 
appeared from the pre-arrangements, the Hamiltons 
must have been of Nelson's private and unspecified 
party. Together they went to their boat where, be- 
fore their start, they awaited the separate escape of the 
royalties. Eventually the two contingents stepped on 
to the deck of the Vanguard at the same moment and 
together. But, in the interval, something must have 
necessitated and occupied their attendance. 

What was it ? 

Here Emma's own account in her " Prince Regent's 



244 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Memorial," more than fourteen years afterwards, per- 
haps comes to our aid. It has been discredited even as 
regards the " secret passage " incident which Acton's 
letters reveal by distinct allusion. This is what Emma 
says : — 

" To shew the caution and secrecy that was neces- 
sarily used in thus getting away, I had on the night of 
our embarkation to attend the party given by the Kilim 
Effendi, who was sent by the grand seignior to Naples 
to present Nelson with the Shahlerih or Plume of Tri- 
umph. I had to steal from the party, leaving our car- 
riages and equipages waiting at his house, and in about 
fifteen minutes to be at my post, where it was my task 
to conduct the Royal Family through the subterranean 
passage to Nelson's boats, by that moment waiting for 
us on the shore. The season for this voyage was ex- 
tremely hazardous, and our miraculous preservation is 
recorded by the Admiral upon our arrival at Palermo." 

I venture, therefore, to suggest the following prob- 
ability.' Count Thurn is keeping watch, in accordance 
with the preconcerted plan. Captain Hope and Nel- 
son arrive at about 7.30 by Neapolitan time at the 
Molesiglio. Leaving Captain Hope in charge, Nelson 
hurries to the reception, as if nothing were in process, 
and, as designed, meets the Hamiltons and Mrs. Cado- 
gan. Within a quarter of an hour they all sally forth, 
walk to the shore, and proceed in Sir William's private 
boat to the rendezvous. Emma, quitting her mother 
and husband, hastens by the palace postern to the side 
of her " adored Queen." The signal for the flight 
has already been made by Count Thurn. Emma ac- 
companies the royal family to the winding and under- 
ground staircase, up which Nelson climbs with pistols 
and lanterns to conduct them. They all emerge from 
the inner to the outer darkness. The royal family are 
bestowed by Hope and Nelson in their barges. The 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 245 

Hamiltons re-enter their own private boat. In another 
hour they again meet on board the Vanguard. 

Emma's temperament alike and circumstances forbid 
us to suppose that, at such an hour, she would allow 
herself to stay apart from the Queen. She lived, and 
had for weeks been living, on tension. The melo- 
drama of the moment, the danger, the descent down 
the cavernous passage, the lanterns, pistols, and cut- 
lasses, the armed boats, the safe conduct of her hero, 
would all appeal to her. It was an experience unlikely 
to be repeated, and one that she would be most unlikely 
to forgo. Affection and excitement would both unite 
in prompting her to persuade Nelson into permitting 
her to assist in this thrilling scene. And it would be 
equally unlikely that either she or Nelson would re- 
port this episode to England. In any case, the incident 
was one more of personal adventure than of necessary 
help. What Nelson does single out for the highest 
commendation in his despatches, what was published 
both at home and abroad, and universally acknowl- 
edged, what Lord St. Vincent praised with gratitude, 
was her signal service before the voyage and under 
that awful storm which arose during it, in which, by 
every authentic account, she enacted the true heroine, 
exerting her energies for every one except herself, car- 
ing for and comforting all, till she was called their 
" guardian angel." " What a scene," wrote Sir John 
Macpherson to Hamilton, " you, your Sicilian King, 
his Queen, Lady Hamilton, and our noble Nelson have 
lately gone through! . . . Lady Hamilton has shown, 
with honour to you and herself, the merit of your 
predilection and selection of so good a heart and so 
fine a mind. She is admired here from the court to 
the cottage. The King and Prince of Wales often 
speak of her." 

It was not till seven o'clock on the morning of the 



246 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

23rd that the Vanguard could weigh anchor. Fresh 
consignments of things left behind were awaited. It 
was still hoped that riot might be pacified and disaf- 
fection subdued. Prince Francesco Pignatelli had 
been commissioned to reign at Naples during the 
King's absence, and was nominated Deputy-Captain- 
General — of anarchy. During this interval of sus- 
pense, a deputation of the magistrates came on board 
and implored the King to remain among his people. 
He was inflexible, and every effort to move him proved 
unavailing. On the one hand, the Lazzaroni, incensed 
against the Jacobins despoiling them of their King; on 
the other, the French Ambassador, smarting under his 
formal dismissal procured by Emma's influence, were 
each precipitating an upheaval itself engineered by 
French arms and agitators and used by traitorous 
nobles, whom both mob and bourgeoisie had grown to 
detest. While Maria Carolina's name was now ex- 
ecrated at Naples by loyalist and disloyalist alike, her 
misfortunes called forth sympathy from England, 
alarmed by the French excesses, and regarding the 
Jacobin mercilessness as fastening on faith, allegiance, 
and freedom. 

Not a murmur escaped the lips of the pig-headed 
King or the hysterical Queen, though inwardly both 
repined. From the Vanguard, ere it set sail, Maria 
Carolina wrote her sad letter to her daughter. The 
" cruel resolution had to be taken." Her " one con- 
solation " was that all faithful to their house had been 
saved. 

After two days' anxious inaction the Vanguard and 
Sannite, with about twenty sail of vessels, at last left 
the bay in disturbed weather and under a lowering 
sky. Among the last visitors was General Mack, at 
the end of his hopes, his wits, and his health : " my 
heart bled for him," wrote Nelson, " worn to a 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 247 

shadow." The next morning witnessed the worst 
storm in Nelson's long recollection. 

And here Emma approved herself worthy of her 
hero's ideal. A splendid sailor, intrepid and energetic, 
she owned a physique which, like her muscular arms, 
she perhaps inherited from her blacksmith father. So 
quick had proved the eventual decision to fly, such had 
been the precautions against attracting notice by any 
show of preparation, so many public provisions had 
been hurried, that the private had been perforce neg- 
lected. Nelson himself thus paints her conduct on 
this " trying occasion." " They necessarily came on 
board without a bed. . . . Lady Hamilton provided 
her own beds, linen, etc., and became their slave; for 
except one man, no person belonging to royalty as- 
sisted the royal family, nor did her Ladyship enter a 
bed the whole time they were on board." Emma's 
Palermo letter to Greville, which is very characteristic, 
will best resume the narrative : — 

" We arrived on Christmas day at night, after hav- 
ing been near lost, a tempest that Lord Nelson had 
never seen for thirty years he has been at sea, the like ; 
all our sails torn to pieces, and all the men ready with 
their axes to cut away the masts. And poor I to at- 
tend and keep up the spirits of the Queen, the Princess 
Royall, three young princesses, a baby six weeks old, 
and 2 young princes Leopold and Albert; the last, six 
years old, my favourite, taken with convulsion in the 
midst of the storm, and, at seven in the evening of 
Christmas day, expired in my arms, not a soul to help 
me, as the few women her Majesty brought on board 
were incapable of helping her or the poor royal chil- 
dren. The King and Prince were below in the ward 
room with Castelcicala, Belmonte, Gravina, Acton, and 
Sir William, my mother there assisting them, all their 
attendants being so frighten'd, and on their knees 



248 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

praying. The King says my mother is an angel. I 
have been for 12 nights without once closing my eyes. 
. . . The gallant Mack is now at Capua, fighting it out 
to the last, and, I believe, coming with the remains of 
his vile army into Calabria to protect Sicily, but thank 
God we have got our brave Lord Nelson. The King 
and Queen and the Sicilians adore, next to worship 
him, and so they ought; for we shou'd not have had 
this Island but for his glorious victory. He is called 
here Nostro Liberatore, nostro Salvatore. We have 
left everything at Naples but the vases and best pic- 
tures. 3 houses elegantly furnished, all our horses 
and our 6 or 7 carriages, I think is enough for the vile 
French. For we cou'd not get our things off, not to 
betray the royal family. And, as we were in council, 
we were sworn to secrecy. So^ we are the worst off. 
All the other ministers have saved all by staying some 
days after us. Nothing can equal the manner we have 
been received here ; but dear, dear Naples, we now dare 
not show our love for that place; for this country is 
je[a]lous of the other. We cannot at present profnt 
of our leave of absence, for we cannot leave the royal 
family in their distress. Sir William, however, says 
that in the Spring we shall leave this, as Lord St. Vin- 
cent has ordered a ship to carry us down to Gibraltar. 
God only knows what yet is to become of us. We are 
worn out. I am with anxiety and fatigue. Sir Will- 
iam [h]as had 3 days a bilious attack, but is now well. 
. . . The Queen, whom I love better than any person 
in the world, is very unwell. We weep together, and 
now that is our onely comfort. Sir William and 
the King are philosophers ; nothing affects them, thank 
God, and we are scolded even for shewing proper sensi- 
bility. God bless you, my dear Sir. Excuse this 
scrawl." 

At three in the afternoon of that sad Christmas Day, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 249 

the royal standard was hoisted at the head of the Van- 
guard in face of Palermo. The tempest-tossed Queen, 
prostrate with grief at the death of her little son, re- 
fused to go on shore. The King entered his barge 
and was received with loyal acclamations. The Van- 
guard did not anchor till two o'clock of the following 
morning. To spare the feelings of the bereaved 
Queen, Nelson accompanied her and the Princesses 
privately to the land. Even then she was surrounded 
by half-enemies. Caracciolo had not yet evinced his 
Jacobin sympathies and was already sailing under du- 
bious colours. The Neapolitan Captain Bausan, whose 
skill contributed to the safety of the ships, and who 
was again to pilot the King next year into port, be- 
came, in that very year, himself a suspect and an 
exile. 

Among the furniture abandoned at the English Em- 
bassy may have been a beautiful table and cabinet 
which the grateful Nelson had ordered from England 
as mementos for Emma, and whose classical designs 
of muses and hovering cupids are said to have been 
painted by Angelica Kauffmann. These still exist, and 
are in the present possession of Mr. Sanderson, the 
eminent Edinburgh collector, to whose kindness the 
writer is indebted for a photograph. Was it to these, 
perhaps, that Nelson alluded when he mentioned the 
" Amorins " to Emma in 1804? 

The Queen secluded herself in the old palace of 
Colli. It seemed ages, she soon wrote, since she had 
seen one to whom she repeated her eternal gratitude 
and perpetual concern. Her throat, head, and chest 
were affected ; the physicians were summoned, but her 
malady lay beyond their cure. Not only had she been 
sorely bereaved, disgraced by defeats, and stung by 
treacheries, but her husband now began to make her a 
scapegoat. This, forsooth, was the fruit of her Anglo- 



250 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

mania — a revolted kingdom, a maddened though ador- 
ing populace, an advancing and arrogant enemy. 
Every day the Queen frequented the churches for 
prayer and the convents for meditation. Each even- 
ing she poured out her heart to the helpful friend of 
her choice, whose sympathy lightened a load else in- 
supportable. 

With some difficulty the Hamiltons, whose perma- 
nent guest Nelson now first became, found a suitable 
abode not too distant from the palace, and, as they 
hoped, healthier in situation than most of a then 
malarious city. But they all suffered from the bad 
air, the more so in the reaction of the change from their 
Neapolitan home. On Emma now devolved half the 
duties of the transferred Embassy. Sir William 
waxed peevish and querulous. He bemoaned the 
wreck of the Colossus, which had carried his art treas- 
ures home. Homeward he himself yearned to retire, 
leaving the Consul Lock as his charge d'affaires. " I 
have been driven," he told Greville, " from my com- 
fortable house at Naples to a house here without chim- 
neys, and calculated only for summer. ... As I wax 
old, it has been hard upon me, having had both bilious 
and rheumatic complaints. I am still most desirous of 
returning home by the first ship that Lord Nelson 
sends down to Gibraltar, as I am worn out and want 
repose." But he shared his wife's enthusiasm for 
Nelson, which acted like a tonic on his nerves. " I love 
Lord Nelson more and more," he adds; " his activity is 
wonderful, and he loves us sincerely." He consoled 
himself with the thought that he had done his duty. 

By January 24 the " Parthenopean Republic " had 
been proclaimed in a town betrayed, against the will 
of its populace, to a French General. The Tree of 
Liberty had been planted; the wooden image of the 
giant, crowned with the red cap of Revolution, had 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 251 

been set up in full sight of the palace. Every loiterer 
on the Chiaja wore the tricolor; the Toledo itself rang 
with the Marseillaise. For a time the enemies of 
Naples played the part of its deliverers. For the Roy- 
alists Naples seemed lost to the Neapolitans; for the 
Jacobins she appeared the trophy of freedom. 

The successive episodes both before and after this 
terrible transformation scene are a " witches' Sabbath." 
All of worst and wildest in every class of the popula- 
tion was set loose. 

And the royal flight had been a Pandora's box which 
had let forth the whole brood of winged mischiefs. If 
the Queen scathed the rebels as parricide poltroons, 
they, in their turn, branded her as villain, and the King 
as coward and selfish deserter, at the very moment 
when the French had crossed the boundary. But with 
that invading host most of them were already in col- 
lusion ; it was the Lazzaroni alone who had the real 
right of denouncement. No sooner had Pignatelli 
published the absconded King's proclamation, and 
placarded the edict appointing him as temporary 
viceroy, than " chaos was come again." Their rough- 
and-tumble macaroni-monarch had vanished; their 
loathed French Revolution was in the air. The French 
troops were on their insolent march cityward. If the 
Neapolitan Bourbons were indeed Baal, as the Jacobins 
averred, there were now few but Lazzaroni to bow 
the knee; if, the Tree of Liberty, as the loyalists de- 
clared it, its votaries might be counted by thousands. 
But on both sides there was no Elijah — no seer to call 
down fire from heaven. The flames, so soon to en- 
wrap the stricken city, were those of Mephistopheles. 



CHAPTER IX 

TRIUMPH ONCE MORE 

To August, 1799 

uS ^CONSPIRACIES are for aristocrats, not for 
i nations," is a pregnant apophthegm of Dis- 

^-"' raeli. Viewed at its full length and from its 
inner side, the great Jacobin outburst at Naples was 
more a conspiracy than a revolution, or even an insur- 
rection. 

To appreciate Nelson's part, and Emma's help, in 
the much-criticised suppression of the Neapolitan 
Jacobins during June, it behoves us to' track, however 
briefly, the course of that most interesting and singular 
movement. This is not the occasion for a minute in- 
quiry; but four preliminary considerations must be 
kept in mind. In the first place, this revolt differs from 
all others in that it was one of the noblesse and 
bourgeoisie against the whole mass of the people. In 
the second, its chief leaders, both men and women (and 
it is doubly engrossing from the fact that women 
played a great part in it), confessedly took their lives 
into their hands. They were quite ready to annihilate 
the objects of their loathing, and, therefore, they had 
small right to complain when opportunity transferred 
to themselves the doom that they had planned for 
others. They proved fully as much tyrants and tor- 
mentors as their sovereign; and the whole conflict was 
really one between two absolutisms, democratic and 
bureaucratic — a struggle between extreme systems 

252 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 253 

exhibiting equal symptoms of the same evil. The 
" Civic Guard," to be erected by the " Deputies," per- 
secuted just as Maria Carolina's secret police had per- 
secuted before. Acton's exactions were to be out- 
done by the French Commissary Faypoult's pillage, 
and the French General Championnet's " indemnities." 
As for brutality, it was tripled by the new reign of 
terror, and when Championnet compassed the concili- 
ation of the brave populace, he contrived even to 
" brutalise miracles." Again, the Neapolitan Jacobins 
were not only oppressors of all authority, but traitors 
to the people as well as to the King; while at last they 
openly confederated with the invaders of their father- 
land and of Europe. It was thus that the force and 
guile of Napoleon trafficked in the reveries of 
Rousseau. 

It is true, nevertheless, that many of them were in- 
spired by noble motives and proved conscientious vic- 
tims. Such children of light as these redeem the 
movement as a real step in the progress of law to lib- 
erty. Some were lofty idealists, while others, how- 
ever, dreamed of realising theories impossible even in 
Cloud-Cuckoo-land. Savants and ignoramuses, phi- 
lanthropists and cosmopolitans abounded. But the 
majority were actuated by very personal motives, and 
inspired by overweening ambitions. None of them, 
not the noblest, were orginative. All were under the 
spell of France; the worst, under that of French gold; 
the best, under that of French sentiment. And, be- 
fore the close, there were very few even among the 
least practical who did not rue the day when they in- 
vited self-interest masquerading as friendship, and 
opened their gates and their hearts to the busybodying 
emissaries of the Directory. The very name of Fay- 
poult soon became more odious than the fact of Fer- 
dinand. 



254 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Once more, just as the contemporary Jacobins con- 
founded license with freedom, and ascribed to paper 
constitutions the virtues of native patriotism, so the 
more modern Italians have always, and naturally, 
viewed in the blood of these martyrs the seed of United 
Italy. It is a legend ineradicable from history; and, 
after the same manner, William Tell is made by Schil- 
ler the prophet of United Germany. Yet, in the main, 
a legend it remains. The " Parthenopean Republic " 
was a venture purely local, unillumined by any vision 
of broadened or strengthened nationality. What was 
not French in its fantasies, was derived from the mod- 
els of ancient Rome. Nothing was farther from the 
aspirations of the Neapolitan Jacobins from December, 
1798, up to June, 1799, than the ideal of one confed- 
erated commonwealth. Like the Ligurian Republic, 
the Neapolitan was the creature of France. Through 
France it rose; through France it fell. And it is not 
a little curious that, some sixty years later, it was to 
the third Napoleon once more that many in Italy looked 
up for regeneration. 

" U merto oppresso, — il nazional mendico, 
Carco d'onor e gloria ogni straniero " 

had been Eleonora de Fonseca Pimentel's lament to 
the King in 1792. By the revival alone of national 
institutions, expressing national character, could a 
natural elasticity be restored. A theoretic and anti- 
national uprising actually deprived Naples of those en- 
lightened schemes by which in her prime Maria Caro- 
lina had sought to renovate her people. She had cut 
the claws of the enraged nobles by abolishing their 
feudal prerogatives. She had sought to improve the 
superstitious Lazzaroni by projects of industry and 
education. She had exalted the applauding students 
into an aristocracy of talent. But it was as puppets 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 255 

dancing on her own wires that she had benefited them 
all. And the result showed that their real resentment 
was against any dependence whatever and any pauper- 
isation. Whether by democracy or by bureaucracy, 
they refused to be transformed. From the feudal 
baron to the pagan beggar, each class wished to keep 
its distinctive flavour, and to live by its instincts. The 
" intellectuals " — a small remnant — were the sole cos- 
mopolitans. They tried to transfigure Naples into 
Utopia, and for that purpose invited a foe that for- 
sook them. Denationalism (or a-nationalism) failed; 
Naples remained Naples still. But the miserable al- 
ternative proved the grinding sway of an avenging 
tyrant, bereft by rebellion of his old jollity, and un- 
tempered by the earlier intellectualism of his now 
fanatical wife. 

The Revolution presents the spectacle of character- 
istic class-instincts in orgy. It was a protest far more 
against Acton's bureaucratic routine than against mon- 
archy. Its eruptions were those of its physical sur- 
roundings. It was a Vesuvius, with all its attendants 
of whirlwind, earthquake, and waterspout. The light 
of heaven was blotted out from the firmament, molten 
lava seared the whole social landscape, and the deeps 
of unbridled instinct shook in the tornado. 

Prince Pignatelli proved himself little but driftwood 
on the deluge. After conceding the Jacobin demands, 
he proceeded to gratify the Lazzaroni's. He ended by 
pleasing none; the " Eletti " nullified his office, of 
which the King said they deprived him. He opened 
with the usual paper-constitution. A " civic guard " 
was formed, the military and civil functions were di- 
vided, a chamber of " deputies " was constituted. 
Nominally, the elective system had been restored. But 
the first act of the new body was to abolish their 



256 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

viceroy's own provisions. They decreed that hence- 
forward royal power should devolve on two authorities 
alone — a chamber of nobles, and themselves, the 
" Patriots " ; the really popular element was thus ex- 
cluded, and the real power became vested in a " Vene- 
tian Oligarchy." Pignatelli was rendered a cipher, 
and the Lazzaroni, who, strange to relate, proved 
themselves the sole realities in a limbo of phantoms, 
were furious at their own incapacitation. Pignatelli 
at once burned one hundred and twenty bombardier 
boats — a work of needless destruction completed by 
Commodore Campbell, to Nelson's disgust, some few 
months later; Count Thurn — our watchman of a fort- 
night ago — blew up two vessels and three frigates. 
Amid this flare and detonation were born the calam- 
ity and carnage that succeeded. Alarm was the pre- 
lude to violence, and violence to panic. Ere long, the 
powerless Pignatelli offered the French a truce in his 
alarm, and fled to Sicily, where he was imprisoned, but 
soon released. Save for the Lazzaroni, Naples was 
without authority or governance, and lay exposed a 
helpless prey to the common enemy. 

Two striking scenes happened within three weeks, 
and in that short but crowded period formed the 
denouements of two separate acts in the drama. Both 
of them passed under the patronage of St. Januarius, 
whose sanction, as declared by the Archbishop Zurlo, 
was always law to the Lazzaroni. They may serve as 
landmarks before a miniature of what led to them is 
attempted. The recital (though there are many Italian 
authorities for the whole history) is most vividly given 
by a contemporary who cannot be accused of partiality 
to the Lazzaroni. The future General Pepe was then a 
stripling of revolutionary enthusiasm, and one of the 
first recruits in the new and transitory " civic guard." 

On the night of January 15 a strange sight might 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 257 

have been viewed in the cathedral. The proud and 
brave Prince Moliterno, among the few distinguished 
in the late humiliating campaign, and just chosen by the 
Lazzaroni as their chief, wended his way, barefooted, 
with bowed head and in penitential tatters, towards the 
glimmering altar, and on his knees besought leave of 
the venerable archbishop to harangue the people. In 
that procession of St. Januarius this grandee was the 
humblest and perhaps the saddest. The French gen- 
eral was already encamped before Capua. Moliterno 
rallied the Lazzaroni and assured them that he would 
lead them victorious against the foe. Four days after- 
wards they were betrayed to the patriots. 

Only a week later, and yet another and even stranger 
tableau happened in the same spot, for St. Januarius 
haunts the Neapolitan Revolution. A second solemn 
procession was formed, but by this time Championnet 
and his French troops had advanced to Naples. Dur- 
ing the morning he had addressed the assembled peo- 
ple in the stately hall of San Lorenzo. His speech had 
been a string of fair-weather promises, not one of 
which was kept. In the evening he steps cathedralward 
on one side of the archbishop, the clever general Mac- 
donald and the mocking French commissary Abrial, on 
the other. The prelate holds aloft the sacred relics 
and the miraculous ewer. Priests, nobles, " patriots," 
and a vast throng of Lazzaroni march in his wake. 
Suddenly a halt is called. The fate of Naples trembles 
in the balance. All depends on whether the blood of 
the saint shall announce by its liquefaction to his be- 
lievers that Heaven favours the French Republic. 
Archbishop Zurlo raises the crystal basin. The saint's 
blood is obdurate, and still monarchical. Macdonald 
holds a concealed but significant pistol. Championnet 
whispers, your miracle or your life! The terrorised 
ecclesiastic announces the prodigy to the crowd. St. 



258 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Januarius, then, is a democrat. The Lazzaroni shout 
in their thousands, " Long live St. Januarius ! long live 
his republic ! " The trick is palmed off successfully 
on the credulous populace, and Championnet with Mac- 
donald returns chuckling to St. Elmo. But miracle or 
no miracle, the end of this coarse jugglery was civil 
war. 

The two intervals must now be briefly supplied. 

On January 12 Pignatelli, from the first hampered 
by the Deputies, negotiated secretly and in panic with 
the enemy, by this time possessed of the chief provin- 
cial fortresses, as the " patriots " were of the Neapol- 
itan. The Lazzaroni, however, were staunch, so that 
the French commissaries despatched next day by Cham- 
pionnet to receive their first payment were forced to 
return. The whole first episode is the triumph of the 
Lazzaroni. Reinforcements, under General Naselli, 
reached them from Palermo, and they attacked the 
quailing " civic guard," composed mainly of " intel- 
lectuals " and professionals. They seized the " patri- 
ots' " arms, the troops and the castles' surrendered to 
them; they opened the prisons and the galleys. They 
dismayed the " patriots," while the town shuddered 
under the license of their patrols. On the whole, how- 
ever, their moderation at first was extraordinary. Pepe, 
himself their captive, bears it especial witness in re- 
counting how they disdained the money offered by his 
relations and released him unharmed. The Lazzaroni 
adored Prince Moliterno and his colleague in leader- 
ship, the Duke of Roccaromana. They would gladly 
have died for these, as for the Duke della Torre and 
Clemente Filomarino, their associate. But when they 
discovered that the leading magnates were already 
treating with the national foe and combining to yield 
General Championnet and his French troops admit- 
tance, their wrath knew no bounds. It was fanned by 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 259 

the priests, who vociferated against the Neapolitan foes 
of Naples from their pulpits. Even Moliterno and 
Roccaromana were now suspected by their mob-fol- 
lowers of Jacobinism. In an access of mad resentment 
the Lazzaroni fired the Duke della Torre's palace, piled 
and burned its treasures, and dragged forth both him 
and the luckless Clemente Filomarino, to be roasted 
alive on the pyre. These atrocities culminated in the 
first scene that has just been described. 

The Lazzaroni's suspicions were well founded. On 
January 19, their hitherto trusted Roccaromana him- 
self betrayed them. By complot with the " patriots " 
he entered the fort of St. Elmo, and won over its com- 
mandant to his stratagem. The Lazzaroni garrison 
were sent out of their quarters, ostensibly to buy provi- 
sions for the approaching siege. On their return they 
were suddenly disarmed. The tricolor . standard was 
hoisted as a signal to Championnet, encamped with his 
legions in the " Largo della Pigna." By Pepe's own 
confession, the Lazzaroni, deserted and defrauded, 
evinced a " marvellous intrepidity." Against desperate 
odds they stood their ground. Only a fortnight be- 
fore, they had seen of what poor stuff the " civic 
guard " had been made. But sturdier " patriots " than 
weak-kneed students now garrisoned St. Elmo. Over- 
whelming numbers soon closed the conflict. 

Meanwhile Championnet had waved his flag of truce 
in response to the three-coloured ensign, and while the 
Lazzaroni hung back tricked and abashed, he entered 
the city. He at once made " an affectionate discourse." 
Everybody was promised everything: he had come for 
all their goods. The " patriots " loved the people, and 
to himself both they and the Lazzaroni were brothers 
more in hearts than in arms. He was there to eman- 
cipate them all; a golden age was at hand. His army 

was not French but Neapolitan. 

Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 9 



2 6o EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

The Lazzaroni, gullible and volatile, believed him 
and cheered; mob fury was allayed. " God save San 
Gennaro ! " burst from every lip. " God save San 
Gennaro ! " reiterated Championnet and Macdonald. 
Before a day had passed they should see a sign from 
their saint. And then followed the solemn juggle of 
our second act. Relics were very helpful to the Direc- 
tory, and for a moment those who had panted to ex- 
terminate the French welcomed them as brothers under 
the celestial portent. The " Parthenopean Republic " 
was proclaimed. The poets burst into song, the pam- 
phleteers into doctrine, the journalists into execration 
of monarchy and eulogies of Reason and the Millen- 
nium. The printing-presses could hardly cope with the 
demand, and their muse — the tenth muse " Ephemera " 
— was the fair Eleonora Fonseca di Pimentel, who had 
been allowed to republicanise unmolested, and was now 
editress of the new and ebullient Monitore. Its amen- 
ities did not compliment the self-exiled court at 
Palermo. Of Nelson and the Hamiltons as yet there 
was no abuse. But Ferdinand was called a " debased 
despot," a " caitiff fugitive," a " dense imbecile," and 
a " stupid tyrant," while, so far, Carolina fared better 
as " that Amazon, his wife." It was not long before 
the middle-class phase of the movement retaliated on 
the notables even more violently than on the sover- 
eign. "Duke" was derived from coachman ("a 
ducendo "), " Count " from lackey ("a comitando ") ; 
epithets were actually changing the nature of 
things. 

But Championnet's deeds were to refute his words. 
A few days of paper systems were the parenthesis be- 
tween a spurious peace and a civil war. 

A bad harvest served Championnet as excuse for dis- 
persing the Lazzaroni to their homesteads; a bare 
treasury soon caused him to levy toll. A general in- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 261 

surrection ensued in the provinces, repressed by a fresh 
" National Guard " wearing the cockade and com- 
manded by the once loyalist Count Ruvo. The cloven 
hoof of French " emancipation " soon discovered itself. 
The Directory acquainted Championnet that, since 
" right of conquest " had prevailed, the vanquished 
must pay for the luxury of defeat. Commissary-Gen- 
eral Faypoult was already on his road from Paris as 
collector of taxes by special appointment. His orders 
were to expropriate even the palaces and museums, to 
loot the very treasures of Pompeii. The General him- 
self kicked at such exactions. He protested — and was 
recalled to Paris. General Macdonald, who, as creature 
of the Directory, had perhaps anticipated his own ad- 
vantage, promptly stepped into his shoes. The Direc- 
tory forwarded more " commissaries," with orders 
from the " patriotic associations " to pillage the prov- 
inces and to " dictate Republican laws." The French 
troops dared not linger too long at Naples, and eventu- 
ally their whole garrison only amounted to two thou- 
sand five hundred. But their brief sojourn was long 
enough to denude the city. They were billeted in Sir 
William's houses, among the rest, and did infinite dam- 
age to his treasures. Emma — his " Grecian," as her 
husband delighted to call her — rued the vandalism 
which now terrorised the town. 

The lack of the Parthenopean Republic was an or- 
ganised army with a capable leader. Calabria and 
Apulia were at this very moment overrun by Corsican 
adventurers, one of whom assumed the title of Prince 
Francis, and pretended that he was the lawful heir to 
the throne. 

It was at this juncture that the King designated 
Cardinal Ruffo his Vicar-General in place of Pigna- 
telli, the absconder, and invested him with supreme 
military command, although, at the same time, he em- 



262 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

phatically bound him not to do more than suppress the 
rising, without previous consultation with his master; 
nor was he on any account at any time to treat with the 
rebels. 

It should be noted at this his first introduction on to 
our scene, that so early as June 17, Hamilton and Nel- 
son seem to have lost all confidence in him; and his 
behaviour a week later was to justify their discern- 
ment. 

This singular priest-militant, whose rugged hardi- 
hood concealed astute subtlety, and who was at once 
Legate and Lazzarone, landed on the Calabrian coast 
to proclaim " a holy cause." He was the royal Robin 
Hood, while his Friar Tuck was the Sicilian brigand, 
Fra Diavolo. His cardinalate alienated from the 
" patriot " cause many of the priests, who by this time 
had joined hands with the insurgents; for they could 
never forget how the Queen had once withstood the 
Pope. The raising of his standard, and the co-opera- 
tion of the Russian and Turkish frigates from Corfu, 
soon forced the French into an active provincial cam- 
paign. The Bourbonites had secured the fastness of 
Andia. The French stormed and took it. Their mal- 
treatment of young girls had rendered them abominable 
even in the eyes of their better " patriot " allies, one of 
whom on this occasion, Prince Carafa, heading the 
" Neapolitan legion," chivalrously rescued a girl vic- 
tim from their brutality. A long sequel of sickening 
butcheries on both sides followed. The French and 
the " patriots " shot down even old women. Ruffo and 
his savage bandits gave no quarter ; yet they were wel- 
comed as deliverers from rapine and murder. One 
by one the hill-strongholds, that France had taken, were 
seized by Ruffo for the King. By June the Republic 
had become limited afresh to Naples, and " patriot " 
Naples itself smarted under the greedy despotism of 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 263 

" commissary " Abrial, who now reigned in Macdon- 
ald's shoes, and chastised them with scorpions where 
the others had chastised them with whips. 

The Royalist counter-stroke of April, with Ruffo for 
instrument, and subsequently a new " extraordinary " 
tribunal as executive, was long kept a secret, but it was 
divulged to the Jacobins through a remarkable woman 
— Luisa Molines Sanfelice. She and her cousin-hus- 
band had long before been banished for extravagance, 
but they had both been able to return in safety when 
the Revolution began. Her passion for a loyalist 
member of an Italianised Swiss family, Baccher, in- 
volved the wife in sedition. To her Baccher confided 
the King's commission, and the secret thus became dis- 
closed to Vincenzo Coco, the Jacobin historian and ren- 
egade, who afterwards attached himself to the Bour- 
bons. " Cherchez la femme," indeed, is an adage ex- 
emplified throughout a rebellion abounding in " the 
rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle " — 

"" Oh wild as the accents of lovers' farewell, 
Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell." 

In September, 1800, this Luisa, well surnamed "the 
hapless," was to be respited by the Queen's compassion 
on the eve of her death-sentence. The King, however, 
in defiance both of his wife and of the amnesty which 
he had then solemnly proclaimed, refused to commute 
the sentence. 

Except for Ruffo's commission, we have been too 
long absent from Palermo. 

Nelson's thoughts were for the hard-beset Malta, the 
Neapolitan succours for which continued most unsatis- 
factory. Now, as a few months later, his endeavour 
was " so to divide " his " forces, that all " might " have 
security." To Ball, with characteristic generosity, he 
entrusted the Maltese opportunities of distinction. He 



264 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

was still uneasy and unwell; and he was deeply dis- 
pirited, after his recent strain, at the home-slight of- 
fered him by the appointment of Sidney Smith to a 
superior command, with Lord Grenville's orders for 
his obedience, though on this point Lord Spencer soon 
reassured him. His stepson's ill-behaviour, though he 
excused it to his wife, proved a fresh source of annoy- 
ance. His Fanny, too, began to wonder at his neglect 
of home affairs. " If I have the happiness," he an- 
swered, " of seeing their Sicilian Majesties safe on the 
throne again, it is probable I shall still be home in the 
summer. Good Sir William, Lady Hamilton and my- 
self are the mainsprings of the machine which manages 
what is going on in this country. We are all bound to 
England, when we can quit our posts with propriety." 
The " we " and the " all " must have set her wonder- 
ing the more. 

The freedom of Palermo, among other honours, was 
conferred on him in March, but the unfolding tragedy 
of Naples added to his general discouragement. He 
was preoccupied in many directions. The establish- 
ment of (in his own phrase) " the Vesuvian Republic," 
Pignatelli's armistice with the French, " in which the 
name of the King was not mentioned," the surrender of 
Leghorn to the French, boding a Tuscan revolution, in- 
censed him as much as it did the royal family. Sicily, 
he thought, would soon be endangered. The French 
successes at Capua, their installation at Naples, so af- 
fected him, that he inclined to vindicate the royal 
honour himself. " I am ready," he wrote in mid- 
March, " to assist in the enterprise. I only wish to 
die in the cause." Jacobinism, he repeated, was ter- 
rorism. The agreeable surprise of General Sir Charles 
Stuart's arrival in Sicily with a thousand troops, that 
secured Messina against invasion, relieved and elated 
both him and the court. He even believed — for his 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 265 

wishes ever fathered his thoughts — that these might ex- 
pel the French from Naples. 

France, indeed, was on his nerves and brain. So 
soon as he learned that the hero of Acre had given 
passports freeing the remnant of the French fleet off 
Syria and Egypt, he was beside himself: at any mo- 
ment a new squadron might effect a junction with the 
Spanish frigates and bear down on the two Sicilies. 
By the close of March he had already despatched the 
truculent and sometimes ferocious Troubridge to Pro- 
cida for the blockade of Naples. Much was hoped, 
too, from the co-operation of the Russian and Turkish 
fleets. It was quite possible, even now, that Britain 
might restore the Neapolitan monarch to his people. 
And in the meantime, with eyes alert to ensure pre- 
paredness in every direction, he mediated with the Bey 
of Tunis and freed Mohammedan slaves. 

Nor below this tide of varying emotions is an under- 
current lacking of inward conflict. In his own heart 
a miniature revolution was also in process. The spell 
of Lady Hamilton was over him, and he struggled 
against the devious promptings of his heart. To pro- 
tect Naples and Sicily against France had been the de- 
clared policy of his Government; to exterminate French 
predominance was his own chief ambition; he chafed 
against the survival of a single ship. " I knozv," he 
was soon to write, " it is His Majesty's pleasure that 
I should pay such attention to the safety of His Sicilian 
Majesty and his kingdom that nothing shall induce me 
to risk those objects of my special care." Every pub- 
lic motive riveted him to the spot where fascination 
lured and tempted. It is a mistake to imagine that 
Emma held him from duty; all his duties were per- 
formed, and to her last moment she protested to those 
most in his confidence, and best able to refute her if she 
erred, that her influence never tried to detain him. It 



266 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

was duty that actuated him — a duty, it is true, that 
jumped with inclination, and fatally fastened him to 
her side. Such was his health, that he had desired to 
quit the Mediterranean altogether. Away from the 
Mediterranean coasts, he could have steeled himself at 
any rate to absence, if not to forget fulness. In the 
very centre of the seaboard that embodied the true in- 
terests of his country, and to which his instructions 
tied him, he was in hourly neighbourhood of his idol. 
She interpreted, translated, cheered, and companioned 
him. She contrasted with the soullessness of his wife. 
She was often his as well as her husband's amanuensis. 
She drank in every word of patriotic fervour, and re- 
doubled it. Her courage spoke to his ; so did her com- 
passion and energy. Together they received the 
Maltese deputies. Together they listened, in disguise, 
to the talk of Sicilian taverns. Together they also 
went on errands of mercy. From the Queen she car- 
ried him perpetual information and praise. Through 
her and her husband he was able to work on Acton. 
Every British officer that landed with advices or des- 
patches, every friendly though foreign crew, was wel- 
comed at the table over which Emma presided. No 
veriest trifle that could assist them ever escaped her. 
Indeed, her lavish hospitality and the noisy heartiness 
of the coming and going guests oppressed the Ambas- 
sador, who sighed on the eve of superannuation for 
home and quiet, for the excitements of Christie's, and 
the fisherman's tranquil diplomacy. It was not the 
toils of the huntress that ensnared Nelson. It was 
Britain that demanded his vigilance and enchained him 
here ; while for him, more and more, Britain's " guard- 
ian angel " was becoming Emma. 

Imploring Sir Alexander Ball in February to return 
from Malta, she had avowed a foreboding that " Fate *' 
might " carry " her " down." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 267 

A great shock had been followed by a great fear. 
The main body of the French army had gone, but the 
Neapolitan rebellion, if the French fleet managed to 
reach and rally it, might still engulf them all. Gallo was 
again playing the King off against the Queen. Who 
knew what might happen in this conspiracy of gods and 
men ? And when she presaged some fatality, may she 
not also have pondered whither she herself was now 
drifting ? The doom of Paolo and Francesca may well 
have been within the range of her Italian reading. To 
the complexity of her feelings I shall revert when I 
come to the events of a month afterwards. Only two 
years later she and Nelson were thus to poeticise the 
affection that was now ripening : — 

Lord Nelson to His Guardian Angel. 

" From my best cable tho' I'm forced to part, 
I leave my anchor in my Angel's heart. 
Love, like a pilot, shall the pledge defend, 
And for a prong his happiest quiver lend." 

Answer of Lord Nelson's Guardian Angel. 

" Go where you list, each thought of Emma's soul 
Shall follow you from Indus to the Pole : 
East, West, North, South, our minds shall never part; 
Your Angel's loadstone shall be Nelson's heart. 

Farewell! and o'er the wide, wide sea 

Bright glory's course pursue, 
And adverse winds to love and me 

Prove fair to fame and you. 
And when the dreaded hour of battle's nigh, 
Your Angel's heart, which trembles at a sigh, 
By your superior danger bolder grown, 
Shall dauntless place itself before your own. 
Happy, thrice happy, should her fond heart prove— 
A shield to Valour, Constancy, and Love." 

But a fresh influence was also, may be, about to steal 
into her being. To the pinch of adversity and her 
misgivings for the Queen she loved, was now being 



268 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

added the stress of a passion half realised but hard to 
resist. She would not have been the emotional woman 
that she was, if in some shape, however dimly, religion 
as consoler had not whispered in the recesses of her 
heart. Hitherto among her immediate surroundings 
only Nelson could have been called really religious. He 
was a strong Protestant. But as she beheld the Queen 
comforted by an older ritual and a communion less 
severe, it may have crossed her mind that the cere- 
monies which she had mocked as superstitions held in 
them some rare power of healing. Southern religion 
thrives on its adopted and hybrid forms, as to this day 
is attested by Sicilian peasants hugging the image of 
their swarthy saint; Sicilian reapers chanting their 
weird litany to the sinking sun ; Sicilian farmers meting 
out their harvested grain by their image of the rosaried 
Madonna. There was at this time at Palermo an 
Abbe Campbell, who had followed the fugitives thither- 
ward. Twelve years before, he had been chaplain to 
the Neapolitan Embassy in London, and is said to have 
been the priest who secretly united the future George 
IV. to Mrs. Fitzherbert. He was a genial soul, in the 
world but not wholly of it, musical and romantic. He 
remained constant to Emma throughout her chequered 
fortunes, and in future years he often crosses her path 
again and Nelson's. One may guess that through him 
first arose those promptings that eventually made 
Emma a proselyte to the faith that, perhaps above 
others, openly welcomes the strayed and the fallen. 

Troubridge girded to his work as Jacobin-killer in 
grim earnest. The Governor of Procida, its peasants 
and Ischia's, were loyal to the core. The English 
sailor was acclaimed by the people as a deliverer from 
a faction; and he was not over-squeamish in his task of 
quelling what Lord Bristol termed to Hamilton " that 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 269 

gang of thieves, pickpockets, highwaymen, cut-th'roats 
and cut-purses called the French Republic." "Oh!" 
wrote Troubridge to Nelson, " how I long to have a 
dash at the thieves." And again, " The villainy we 
must combat is great indeed. I have just flogged a 
rascal for loading bread with sand. The loaf was 
hung round his neck in sight of the people." The 
" trials " of rebels he admits to be " curious," as the 
culprits were frequently " not present." He actually 
apologised to Nelson, on the score of hot weather, for 
not sending him a Jacobin's head ; with charming pleas- 
antry he calls the donor " a jolly fellow." The " ras- 
cally nobles, tired of standing as common sentinels," 
confessed that sheer discomfort had loyalised them. 
Even here Lady Hamilton's energy was conspicuous. 
She exerted herself for the Queen in communicating 
with the island, while Troubridge in his turn for- 
warded documents to her. She had got conveyed to 
him a letter from the Queen intended for Pignatelli. 
The bearer, Troubridge's servant, was loaded by the 
noble with irons. " I trust before long," Troubridge 
exclaimed, " I shall have a pull at his nose for it. I 
have two or three to settle with if we get in." He was 
" mad " at the infamous conduct of the officers 
despatched to him by the King. They had violated 
discipline, and a promise was given that they should be 
court-martialled. But the most important statement 
of his despatches to Nelson relates to Caracciolo, who 
must have been trusted, or he would not have been suf- 
fered to return home whether his errand was his owl 
or his master's. " I am now satisfied," declares Trou- 
bridge, " that he is a Jacobin. He came in the gun- 
boat to Castellamare himself and spirited up the 
Jacobins." By April 7 Troubridge had reduced the 
Neapolitan islands. 

Prospects at last looked brighter. Ruffo had nearly 



270 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

subdued the provinces, and the Austrians at length, in 
formal alliance with Naples, Russia, and the Porte, had 
rejoiced the Queen by their victory at Padua. It was 
commemorated by a salute from the British fleet. The 
Bishop of Derry — now at Augsburg — communicated 
the news to Emma in an amusing letter, which opens 
with her own favourite " Hip, hip, hip, huzza, huzza, 
huzza ! " Ball was now pushing forward the Maltese 
operations, while Duckworth had been active near the 
Balearic islands. On every point of the Mediter- 
ranean compass Nelson kept his watchful eye. But 
for him the Mediterranean was mainly a theatre for 
the as yet invisible French frigates. The spectre of 
that squadron haunted him by night and day ; he han- 
kered after the moment when he could re-attack it. It 
was for him what Godolphin was for Charles the Sec- 
ond — never in and never out of the way. 

Early in May, the brig UEspoir brought Nelson the 
glad tidings that the French fleet had quitted Brest, 
and had been seen off Oporto. He at once concerted 
plans with Lord St. Vincent, Troubridge, and Duck- 
worth. It was said to consist at most of nineteen 
ships and ten frigates or sloops. Its destination was 
unknown. By May its junction with the ships of 
Spain had been notified. 

Nelson made sure that the Two Sicilies were in- 
tended, and that France still hoped by one decisive 
stroke to end at once monarchy and independence. He 
pressed Lord St. Vincent on no account to remove him 
from the impending action, wherever it might take 
place. He feared that St. Vincent's failing health, 
which necessitated his resignation, might help the 
French to elude the commander's vigilance. In the 
end, elude it they did. 

He resolved to cruise off Maritimo as the likeliest 
point of sight, and on May 13 he was on board the 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 271 

Vanguard. But contrary winds intervened, and kept 
him waiting for Duckworth's vessels till the 20th, to his 
keen vexation. His absence heightened the attach- 
ment with which he had inspired the Hamiltons. " I 
can assure you," wrote Hamilton amid the festivities 
that even at such a moment celebrated the birth of a 
son to the Imperial House of Austria, " I can assure 
you that neither Emma nor I knew how much we loved 
you until this separation, and we are convinced your 
Lordship feels the same as we do." And on other oc- 
casions Sir William writes to Nelson most intimately 
and admiringly, dating one of his letters " near wind- 
ing-up-watch hour." Two of his three remaining 
letters to Emma, before he started, open a little win- 
dow both on to the interior of the Hamiltons' menage 
and of his own heart. On the 12th he writes : — 

" My dear Lady Hamilton, — Accept my sincere 
thanks for your kind letter. Nobody writes so well : 
therefore pray say not you write ill; for if you do, I 
will say what your goodness sometimes told me — ' You 
lie ! ' I can read and perfectly understand every word 
you write. We drank your and Sir William's health. 
Troubridge, Louis, Hallowell and the new Portuguese 
captain dined here. I shall soon be at Palermo, for 
this business must very soon be settled. ... I am 
pleased with little Mary: kiss her for me. I thank 
all the house for their regard. God bless you all! I 
shall send on shore if fine to-morrow; for the feluccas 
are going to leave us, and I am sea-sick. I have got 
the piece of wood for the tea-chest: it shall soon be 
sent. Pray, present my humble duty and gratitude to 
the Queen." 

On the 19th — 

" To tell you how dreary and uncomfortable the 
Vanguard appears, is only telling you what it is to go 



2J2. EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

from the pleasantest society to a solitary cell, or from 
the dearest friends to no friends. I am now perfectly 
the great man — not a creature near me. From my 
heart I wish myself the little man again ! You and 
good Sir William have spoiled me for any place but 
with you. I love Mrs. Cadogan. You cannot con- 
ceive what I feel when I call you all to my remem- 
brance, even to Mira, do not forget your faithful and 
affectionate, Nelson." 

Indeed, all these days he was in constant corre- 
spondence with the Hamiltons. On May 25, so great 
was his admiration for them, that he drew up his 
first codicil — a precursor of many to come — in their 
favour. To Emma he bequeathed " the nearly round 
box " set with diamonds, the gift of the Sultan's 
mother; to her husband fifty guineas for a memorial 
ring. For his risks were now great; he carried his 
life in his hands. The French contingent should still 
be found : his efforts were bent on more ships, that 
success might be assured when the clash of arms must 
recur. 

Up to May 28, when he again landed at Palermo, he 
was still without sight, without result, though not 
wholly without effect. He resolved to withdraw some 
ships from Malta and concentrate his whole forces. 
On June 8, as Rear-Admiral of the Red, he had shifted 
from the Vanguard to the Foudroyant. By June 12 
he heard of Lord St. Vincent's intention to return 
home, and his replacement by Lord Keith, with 
genuine distress. " If you are sick," he wrote to him, 
" I will fag for you, and our dear Lady Hamilton will 
nurse you with the most affectionate attention. Good 
Sir William will make you laugh with his wit and in- 
exhaustible pleasantry. . . . Come then to your sin- 
cere friends." 

Still not a glimpse of the French fleet. But large 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 273 

issues were pending. The very day before the date 
of this invitation to his commander, the Queen herself 
addressed to him a pleading letter. The state of 
Naples, the uncertainty as to the enemy's movements, 
had decided her on a definite plan. An expedition, 
forestalling the arrival of the Gallic squadron, might 
strike a bloodless blow. The bloodshed even of her 
enemies was far, she urged, from her thoughts. The 
heir-apparent, as representative of his family, would 
accompany him and chafe the embers of Neapolitan 
loyalty into a blaze. " Other duties " obliged her to 
remain at Palermo. He would earn the " sincere and 
profound gratitude " of his " devoted friend." At the 
same time — and this is the key to after events — Fer- 
dinand himself conferred on him the fullest powers. 
In every sense of the word he was to be his pleni- 
potentiary. Already a month before, Nelson had 
despatched Foote with a commission to reduce the 
mainland, as Troubridge had reduced the islands. 
Foote, Thurn, and Governor Curtis had already issued 
their proclamation of a Neapolitan blockade, and had 
bidden the insurgents take advantage of clemency 
while there was yet time. Had they only complied, a 
chapter of misery would have been avoided; but, di- 
vided as they were, they still trusted to the invisible 
French fleet. Short shrift was to be granted to rebels 
and traitors. Only the misguided and the innocent 
were to be spared. Already Foote reported that thir- 
teen Jacobins had been hung. The Queen poured out 
her renewed hopes and prayers to Lady Hamilton. 

Emma was all devotion and excitement, yet misgiv- 
ings blent with her hopes. Who could foretell the 
issues? After all, the moment must decide. And 
who could foresee her own part in this great struggle ? 
Out of a narrow room she had been lifted into the 
spheres. Even as she pondered, Greville — Greville 



274 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

of the suburban " retreat " — was writing to her hus- 
band that the eyes of Europe were now fixed on Italy. 
He had already been trumpeting her own achievements 
to the Prince of Wales : " Many and all " admired 
her much; she had been "instrumental in good." 
" Tell Lady Hamilton," was his message, " with my 
kindest remembrances, that all her friends love her 
more than ever, and those who did not know her ad- 
mire her." Greville, then, had at length learned to 
know her worth. His " crystals " would hardly have 
weighed in the scale if, thirteen years ago, his ap- 
praisement had been one of insight. 

Nelson responded to the Queen with all his heart. 
His zeal quickened with uncertainty. Lady Hamil- 
ton was the Queen's friend, and Lady Hamilton's 
friends were his. Maria Carolina was " a great 
woman," and greatness was his affinity. He thought 
in dominants — the predominance of his country; and 
Naples loyalised would signify France quelled. Ruffo 
was fast advancing from the provinces against the for- 
sworn city. The Neapolitan Jacobins were on tenter- 
hooks for even an inkling of the French squadron, 
their deliverer. What Nelson dreaded was that the 
Franco-Hispanian force might be joined by ships from 
Toulon. In that event he would be fighting against 
heavy odds ; and his " principle," as he afterwards as- 
sured Lord Spencer, " was to assist in driving the 
French to the devil, and in restoring peace and happi- 
ness to mankind." 

And still of that veiled flotilla not a token. 

It was reported as bearing on the Italian coast. Nel- 
son had been eager to set off within about a week of 
the Queen's appeal. That appeal decided him to wait 
one week longer. Maria Carolina was impatient for a 
second Aboukir, and for such a stroke reinforcements 
were needed. On June 12 he and Sir William were 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 275 

still concerting their plans. The Queen now used the 
Hamiltons for her purposes and urged them to fasten 
her champion's resolve by accompanying him. Emma 
was ill, worn with inward struggle and suspense; her 
patroness was perpetually and anxiously inquiring 
after her health, Sir William was almost prostrate with 
indisposition. He wrote that Emma " was unwell and 
low-spirited with phantoms in her fertile brain that 
torment her . . . too much Sensibility " ; he hoped 
Nelson was not " fretting " his " guts to fiddle- 
strings." Emma shrank from the turbid scenes that 
she would be called upon to interpret and to encounter ; 
she also dimly dreaded the results of constant associa- 
tion with her hero. But her knowledge of men, cir- 
cumstances, and language would be indispensable on 
this fateful errand, and already on June 12 she thus, as 
Queen's advocate, besought Nelson: — 

" Thursday evening, June 12. 

" I have been with the Queen this evening. She is 
very miserable, and says, that although the people of 
Naples are for them in general, yet things will not be 
brought to that state of quietness and subordination 
till the Fleet of Lord Nelson appears off Naples. She 
therefore begs, intreats, and conjures you, my dear 
Lord, if it is possible, to arrange matters so as to 
be able to go to Naples. Sir William is writing for 
General Acton's answer. For God's sake consider it, 
and do ! We will go with you if you will come and 
fetch us. 

" Sir William is ill ; I am ill : it will do us good. 
God bless you! Ever, ever, yours sincerely." 

The Queen's insistence, Emma's mediation, per- 
meate every line. Just after this manner, some thir- 
teen years earlier, the mimic Muse had echoed Greville 



276 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

in her answer to the invitation that first lured her to 
Naples. 

Her heart was heavy with forebodings. She would 
have much to do and perhaps to suffer. She was 
charged with a triple task : to rehabilitate the Queen, to 
single out the traitors from the true amongst the 
notables, to assist Nelson in his " campaign." She 
knew that the risk would be great and the nervous 
strain severe. Privately, as well as publicly, she feared 
the uncertain upshot. Her phases of mind and mood 
and memory all joined in bodying forth the future. 
For thirteen years not a breath of scandal had sullied 
her name. She had long, indeed, been held up as a 
pattern of conjugal virtue. Yet Josiah Nisbet, the 
boy whom both she and his stepfather had generously 
helped and forgiven, far more and oftener indeed than 
his own mother, was already tattling to that mother of 
the Calypso who was detaining Ulysses. Hitherto she 
could honestly acquit herself of the imputation. So 
much that was glorious had happened in so few 
months, that her tender friendship had been absorbed 
by memories and reveries of glory. And for her, 
glory meant honour. This is the clue to her nature. 
To honour she fancied that she, like Nelson, was 
dedicating existence. And now, even while she justi- 
fied to herself the chances in relation to her own hus- 
band by the thought of a past debt amply repaid, she 
paused on the threshold of the irreparable, as the pale 
face of Nelson's unknown wife rose up before her. 
She had been only stiff and condescending to Emma's 
warm-hearted advances immediately after the battle 
of the Nile. Was this cold partner jealous then, and 
spiteful without an overt cause? Let her covert sus- 
picions dare their worst; Emma would brave them 
out. And another and higher feeling mixed with her 
agitations. She was quitting her much-loved mother, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 277 

by whom she had always stood loyally, even when 
most to her disadvantage ; by whom she was always to 
stand; whom, if that French navy fell in with them, 
she might possibly never see again. " My mother," 
she wrote when all was over, " is at Palermo, longing 
to see her Emma. You can't think how she is loved 
and respected by all. She has adopted a mode of liv- 
ing that is charming. She has good apartments in our 
house, always lives with us, dines, etc. etc. Only when 
she does not like it (for example at great dinners) 
she herself refuses, and has always a friend to dine 
with her; and the Signora Madre dell' Ambasciatrice 
is known all over Palermo, the same as she was at 
Naples. The Queen has been very kind to her in my 
absence, and went to see her, and told her she ought to 
be proud of her glorious and energick daughter, that 
has done so much in these last suffering months." 
Other chords in her being might be snapped asunder 
and replaced, but at least this pure note of daughterly 
devotion would never fail. 

And if Emma was at once happy and tormented, so 
now was Nelson. He was racked alike by hopes and 
fears. His love for her was gradually vanquishing 
his allegiance to his wife, and his heart was fast tri- 
umphing over his conscience. He had not yet per- 
suaded himself that his love accorded with the scheme 
divine, that his formal marriage was no longer con- 
secrated, and that to profane it was not to profane 
a sacrament. It was barely a year since Captain Hal- 
lowell had presented him with the coffin framed out 
of his Egyptian spoils — a memento mori indeed. 
Every one remembers the strain of dejection about this 
date in his home letters, which have been constantly 
cited from Southey. " There is," he wrote, " no true 
happiness in this life, and in my present state I could 
quit it with a smile." He protested the same to his 



278 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

old friend Davison, adding that his sole wish was to 
" sink with honour into the grave." On the one side 
beckoned the French enemy and Emma, on the other 
the offended Fanny, his pious father, and the call of 
God. 

While, however, both the cause of his heart and the 
voice that it loved were thus pleading with its doubts 
and anxieties, vexation also spurred him into ir- 
retrievable decision. Lord Keith's interfering sum- 
mons to Minorca had reached him. These orders he 
resented and disobeyed, as he had so often disobeyed 
unwarrantable orders before. Minorca was a baga- 
telle compared with the big issues now at stake, and 
Minorca, moreover, was by this time comparatively 
safe. " I will take care," he was soon to write, " that 
no superior fleet shall annoy it, but many other coun- 
tries are entrusted to my care." Jacobinism, the 
French fleet — these were the dangers for Britain and 
for Europe. His reply was that the " best defence " 
was to " place himself alongside the French." He ap- 
pealed from Lord St. Vincent's meddlesome successor 
to Lord St. Vincent. " I cannot think myself justi- 
fied in exposing the world — I may almost say — to be 
plundered by these miscreants ... I trust your lord- 
ship will not think me wrong . . . for agonised in- 
deed was the mind of your lordship's faithful and af- 
fectionate servant." These were no sophistries, and 
" wrong " St. Vincent certainly never held him. It 
was not long before he learned that Lord Keith him- 
self had sailed in search of the fleet which unluckily he 
never found. Nelson still believed Naples to be that 
fleet's objective, and in this conviction many private 
advices supported him. But more than all, his resolve 
to vindicate royalty against Jacobinism was strength- 
ened by the fact that at this very moment his own, 
and Emma's, grave suspicions concerning Cardinal 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 279 

Ruffo's misuse of his powers were being strikingly 
confirmed by new and startling reports; while at the 
same time another Austrian success at Spezzia had 
fortified afresh the cause of loyalty. He discerned the 
moment for reclaiming the hotbed of Jacobinism. His 
mind was fixed. He would go. 

On June 13, then, he embarked the young Crown 
Prince in the Foudroyant and hastened off once again, 
while the Hamiltons remained behind. The King had 
apparently forbidden the Queen to revisit the scene of 
disgrace, and reserved his own appearance for the 
necessity which Ruffo's double-dealing, that he still 
half-discredited, might entail. But on learning definite 
news near Maritimo that the French fleet in full force 
had at length got out of Toulon, and was now actu- 
ally bound for the south coast, Nelson at once tacked, 
and once more returned to Palermo to gain time for 
Ball's and Duckworth's further reinforcements. He 
arrived the next day, and, to the Queen's infinite sur- 
prise, landed her son, who was at once taken by her to 
his father at Colli. Though Nelson still feared for 
Sicily, he had hoped to have re-departed immediately, 
but calms and obstacles intervened. Now that he was 
certain of his mission, he welcomed the company and 
invaluable aid of the Hamiltons, whose entreaties had 
overborne his consideration for their health and safety. 
Yet even now he would not receive them until he had 
made a fourth cruise of hurried survey and final 
preparation to the islands of Maritimo and Ustica. He 
started, therefore, on June 16, but five mornings after- 
wards he again heard from Hamilton the momentous 
certainty that Ruffo had dared to conclude a definite 
armistice with the Neapolitan rebels; while he also 
learned that the Jacobins were bragging that his re- 
turn to Palermo was due to fear of the French fleet. 
The policy of the Cardinal and the insolence of the 



280 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

rebels allowed not a moment to be lost. Forthwith 
he left his squadron once more and reached Palermo in 
the afternoon. A council was immediately held. 
Ruffo, who, despite the despatches heralding Nelson's 
voyage, had probably counted on his many false starts, 
received warning of his imminent approach ; the Ham- 
iltons, in the full flush of excitement, were conveyed on 
board the Foudroyant; Nelson, still longing for that 
unconscionable fleet and reinvested by the King with 
unlimited powers, started at once to cancel the in- 
famous compact. That same evening he had rejoined 
his command off Ustica. By noon on the 22nd the 
united squadron weighed anchor for Naples — " stealing 
on," wrote Hamilton to Acton, " with light winds," 
and " I believe the business will soon be done." 

These dates and details have been minutely followed, 
as tending to establish that what really decided Nel- 
son's movements was the dearest wish of his heart — 
the honour and interest of Great Britain. After sup- 
pressing the enemies of all authority and order, he 
still hoped to fall in with the long-hunted French fleet, 
and to deal a death-blow to the universal enemy. All 
along, his convictions and motives must be taken into 
account before the tribunal of history. It would never 
have been insinuated that he was a renegade to duty in 
making Palermo the base of his many operations, and 
the Neapolitan dynasty the touchstone of his country's 
cause, if Lady Hamilton had not been in Sicily; in 
Sicily he neither tarried nor dallied. To estimate his 
conduct, one should inquire if his policy could have 
been called dereliction supposing her to have been 
eliminated from its scene. And what applies to him in 
these matters henceforward applies to Emma, whose 
whole soul is fast becoming coloured by his. For a 
space she must now act a minor, though by no means, 
as will soon appear, a supernumerary part, as his col- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 281 

league in the real tragedy that now opens before 
us. 

Thus at last he, with the Hamiltons, set sail on an 
errand which has constantly been described as tarnish- 
ing his fame. 

Mr. Gutteridge's scholarlike and impartial review of 
all the intricate facts and documents has proved that 
Nelson neither exceeded his powers nor violated his 
conscience. In championing the royal house of Naples 
he was as entirely consistent with the declared policy of 
his country as with his own convictions. His error, 
if any, was one of judgment. In rebellions clemency 
is often the best policy, and proscription is always the 
worst. Happy indeed would it have been for Naples, 
and for Nelson, if during the next two months the 
King had not intervened as director, inquisitor, and 
hangman, if Cardinal Ruffo had not favoured the 
nobles and wished to restore the feudal system. 

Before the Foudroyant proceeds further, let us 
glance at the intervening events in Naples. 

In that citadel of turbulence much had again hap- 
pened, and was happening to the court's knowledge, 
ere Nelson weighed anchor at Palermo. Before May 
even, the successful blockade of Corfu by the Russians 
and Turks had largely cleared Ruffo's conquering 
course. The Austrians and Russians had prepared to 
drive the French from Upper Italy. In May, General 
Macdonald had already beaten a skilful retreat to the 
Po, leaving only a small detachment behind him to gar- 
rison the Neapolitan and Capuan castles. Benvenuto 
had welcomed the loyalists. By early June the Car- 
dinal, close to the city, had succeeded in intercepting 
all communications by land. Schipani, a royalist of- 
ficer of distinction, had disembarked his troops at 
Torre Annunziata. The Republican fleet, commanded 
by Caracciolo, now a rebel against his sovereign, had 



282 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

avoided close quarters; while that traitor, by compul- 
sion as he pleaded, who two months ago had quitted 
Sicily in favour with his master, had even fired on the 
flag of the frigate Minerva. 

By the 13th of June — amid the solemn rites of the 
Lazzaroni's other patron, St. Antonio — Ruffo, with 
his miscellaneous forty thousand, gave battle on the 
side of Ponte Delia Maddalena, and won. Duke Roc- 
caromana, the people's old favourite, was now one 
of his generals, and the populace, tired of bloodshed 
and the " patriots," rejoiced at the hope of a royal 
restoration. The young Pepe, a boy-prisoner, has left 
an account of the terrible scenes that he witnessed. 
He saw the wretched captives, stripped and streaming 
with blood, being dragged along to confinement in the 
public granary by the bridge. He heard the Lazza- 
roni, " who used to look so honest, and to melt as 
their mountebanks recited the woes of ' Rinaldo,' 
shrieking and howling." He watched the clergy whip- 
ping the rabble with their words, till they threw stones 
at the miserable prisoners. Some of them Ruffo had 
to protect from brutal assaults. These were thrown 
into hospitals, all filth and disorder; while others 
feigned insanity to gain even this doubtful privilege. 
He beheld Vincenzo Ruvo, the " Cato " of the " patri- 
ots," and Jerocades, their " Father," bruised and 
bound; and he marked, huddled and draggled among 
their comrades, the " four poets," feebly striving to 
animate their starved spirits by snatches of broken 
song. He learned that the Castellamare garrison had 
also succumbed, but, above all, that Ruffo and 
Micheroux, a most intriguing agent for his Russian 
allies, were at last ready to grant a demand expressed 
by some of the " patriots " for a " truce " so as to end 
this pandemonium, and to arrange some terms of " cap- 
itulation " for the castles still in rebel occupation. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 283 

Terms of any kind the Lazzaroni, on their side, ve- 
hemently resisted ; Ruffo was even accused of caballing 
to place his own brother on the throne. Nelson's own 
views of such unsanctioned capitulation had already 
been strikingly exemplified by his manifesto at Malta 
in the previous October — a point to which special at- 
tention should be drawn. Capitulation the French still 
stoutly rejected. Mejean, commandant of the French 
garrison in St. Elmo, still defended the dominating 
fortress, from which Ruffo would now have to dislodge 
him at the risk of the town's destruction. Their single 
hope was for a glimpse of the French fleet, which was 
as much the object of their yearning as Nelson's. 
Counting on this, in their sore straits they had refused 
every conciliatory overture. Counting on this again, 
Mejean's aim was to gain time by the threat that he 
would fire on the town unless Ruffo forbore to attack 
him. When on June 24 the first sight of Nelson's 
ships was descried in the distance, the " patriots n 
cheered to the echo. They deemed it was St. Louis to 
the rescue. To their dismay it proved St. George. 

Micheroux's name, Ruffo's truce, and Nelson's ar- 
rival must recall us to what Captain Foote of the 
Seahorse had been doing in the interval. He appears 
as no diplomatist, but a most humane and honourable 
seaman. His powers had been strictly limited. He, 
like Troubridge, was a suppressor of rebellion. He was 
to co-operate with the Russians in the Neapolitan 
blockade. He does not seem to have been told by 
Ruffo — who had already received the second of several 
warnings — that since the insurgents had rejected 
initial offers, no armistice whatever could be enter- 
tained. In the event, Ruffo and the Russians over- 
bore him. 

Already, on June 13 and 14, Foote had been assist- 
ing Ruffo and his generals in a series of battles on the 



284 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

coast, all of which had proved decisive discomfitures 
for the rebels. Throughout, Ruffo trembled not only 
for the town, but lest the Franco-Hispanian fleet should 
be on them like a thief in the night. In disorder both 
of troops and plans, amid Jacobin advisers, he tem- 
porised, and pressed on Foote the need of terms. He 
also dreaded the results of the mob-violence displayed 
in those awful scenes on the Ponte Maddalena. " The 
duty," he informed Acton on June 21, just before the 
capitulations were signed, " of controlling a score of 
uneducated and subordinate chiefs, all intent on plun- 
der, murder, and violence, is so terrible and compli- 
cated, that it is absolutely beyond my powers. . . . 
If the surrender of the two castles is obtained, I hope 
to restore complete quiet." He may have used the 
imminence of the French fleet as a bogey to frighten 
his coadjutors, and the imminence of his own attack 
on St. Elmo as a lever for persuading the French com- 
mandant into assent. Fear for the city, for the situa- 
tion, possessed him. St. Elmo was his object, but he 
dreaded the danger from its guns. He deemed his 
unauthorised compact warranted. Two days before it 
was in train Foote had offered asylum on board the 
Seahorse to the Dell' Uovo garrison, then about to be 
stormed. Its answer was an indignant repulse : " We 
want the indivisible Republic ; for the Republic we will 
die! Eloignez-vous, citoyen, vile, vile, vile I" The 
same day Ruffo himself told Foote that St. Elmo must 
be assailed ; it was useless now to think of capitulation. 
He had previously hoped that both French and rebels 
might surrender to the sailor, though they disdained 
an ecclesiastic. And yet within the next few days he 
was in close if unwilling league with Micheroux (the 
King's minister attached to the Russian forces), whom 
he feared to disoblige, and had sanctioned his arrange- 
ment with the rebels, which was subject to Mejean's 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 285 

approval. On June 21 he told Foote that the terms 
were settled, yet he then wrote to Acton that he did 
not know them. He kept the court in long ignorance 
of his manoeuvres. The strain of difficulty told on 
his nerves. Whatever his motives — and they were 
suspected — his action, though far less than Miche- 
roux's, was plainly equivocal, and while he mys- 
tified Foote, he failed to give any clear lead to the 
loyalists. 

There is not much material to explain the tortuous 
negotiations of this period. The clue to them may per- 
haps be found in a desire to accord the patriots the 
same honourable terms as would be due to the French. 
If the rebels could secure these they would be more 
than satisfied, while Mejean trusted to time and the 
chance of the French squadron's arrival. Another 
motive was supplied by the hostages (including 
Micheroux's brother and cousin) and the refugees in 
the castles, among whom was Caracciolo, who, how- 
ever, fled. Some amount of underhand collusion 
seems to have taken place now as afterwards. Foote 
was perplexed both by Ruffo's contradictory letters, 
and by Micheroux, whose authority he refused to 
recognise. On June 19, by invitation, Micheroux at- 
tended a conference at St. Elmo, with Mejean, Massa 
(commanding the Nuovo Castle), and Ruffo. A draft 
capitulation was signed with an armistice — afterwards 
extended to the French — which was to last till the ar- 
rival of the boats at Toulon, conveying such rebels as 
elected to go there, was notified. The whole affair 
was probably engineered by Micheroux in close touch 
with Mejean. Ruffo's compliance may be attributed 
to the necessities of his position and the importance of 
the Russian troops. He and Micheroux alternately 
laid the blame on each other's shoulders. By the 23rd 
the capitulation itself reached Foote, who was the last 



286 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

to sign, and did so under a protest as to anything which 
might prejudice his king and country. 

The document itself was most peculiar, considering 
the conditions of hostile and insurgent garrisons in the 
face of a successful conqueror. While it was condi- 
tional on Mejean's approval, it contained no mention 
of St. Elmo, and it was attended by a concurrent 
armistice, unspecified in it but very material to two 
of its main provisions. The truce's tenor may be gath- 
ered both from allusions in letters and from Nelson's 
emphatic memorandum, written before he had seen it, 
but read to and rejected by Ruffo. One must feel 
for the " patriots " in the mass, since they seem to 
have been ultimately deceived, and many of them were 
noble. One must detest the vindictiveness with which 
the royal house pursued its triumph, though all that 
Jacobinism meant at the time should be recalled. One 
must condemn the violence of the mob, for it was 
general and indiscriminate. But both the duplicity 
and the brutality were the outcome of the two despot- 
isms which had so long been pitted against each other. 
Nor should it be forgotten that, as already noticed, 
Ferdinand himself had no objection to treat with the 
French, if only they would hand over St. Elmo to the 
loyalists. What he had strictly and constantly for- 
bidden was any sort of capitulation for the rebels. 
And lastly it should be emphasised that, since on a 
previous occasion the rebels had broken a concluded 
truce, they might well repeat that perfidy. The city's 
horrors had been swelled by the reprisals of the 
Jacobins. They were now, in Hamilton's words, " re- 
duced to a shabby condition," and it was this that led 
them to listen to the persuasions of Micheroux and the 
dictation of Mejean. 

The terms of the armistice, according to Nelson's 
version of it, seem to have been as follows : — 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 287 

It provided for ^tmce of twenty-one days, by the 
expiry of which the^French and the patriot garrisons, 
if unrelieved, were 3 to evacuate Naples. From Sac- 
chinelli's account of the preliminaries, their transport 
was to be free, i.e. at the King's expense. No won- 
der that Foote found the terms of capitulation " very 
favourable to the Republicans," though he based his 
consent on the express grounds that Ruffo was Vice- 
roy, and that St. Elmo could not " with propriety be 
attacked " till advices were received that the Repub- 
licans had reached Toulon. 

Nelson, however, took a much stronger view of this 
transaction. All armistices were reciprocal; if either 
party were " relieved " or succoured within a given 
time, a status quo must result. This armistice, how- 
ever, provided, and on the most monstrous conditions, 
for the interruption of hostilities pending the mere 
chance of the enemy being relieved. If the French 
fleet had appeared instead of his, no one could sup- 
pose that the rebels would keep their word. If, on 
the other hand, the King's army were, as it was now 
being, " relieved " by the British squadron, the truce 
was ipso facto determined. The very presence of Nel- 
son's ships, therefore annulled this armistice. 

So much for the truce. Now for the capitulation. 

The troops composing the garrisons were to keep 
possession of the forts till the boats for their safe-con- 
duct to Toulon were ready to sail. They were then 
to march out with all the honours of war. Should 
they prefer it, they were granted the option of remain- 
ing " unmolested " at Naples instead of proceeding by 
sea. These terms were to comprise all prisoners of 
war. All hostages were to be freed, but Micheroux's 
brother and cousin, the Bishop of Avellino, and the 
Archbishop of Salerno, were to remain in St. Elmo 
and in Mejean's hands, until the arrival of those sent 



288 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

to Toulon should be ascertained. Every condition 
was subject to the French Me jean s 1 approval. " They 
demand," wrote the raging Queen in her indignant 
comments, not " the approval of their sovereign, but 
the approval of a small number of Frenchmen. . . . 
What an absurdity to give hostages as though we were 
the conquered ! " 

This luckless treaty it was that intensified the mor- 
bid paroxysms of royal vengeance, for it converted the 
rebels of Naples into a foreign enemy. By insisting 
on amnesty as a right, by leaguing with the common 
foe, by rejecting more than one previous offer of 
clemency, by demanding their very utmost, they for- 
feited the least right to a grace which, however, it 
would have been far better in equity to have accorded. 
Ruffo, by owning himself unable to govern, by his 
helplessness to stem the riotous anarchy of vanquish- 
ers maddened by the suspicion of a second betrayal 
to the French, by his oblique manoeuvres, by his open 
breach of the royal trust, endangered not only himself 
but the countrymen whom he had so bravely led, and 
whom even now he desired to benefit. 

Such was the state of affairs when Nelson, round- 
ing the Posilippo point with his nineteen ships, sailed 
into the bay, drew up his fleet facing the harbour, and 
eyed the white flags flying from the castle towers. The 
Foudroyant was hailed as an ark after the deluge. The 
quay was thronged with cheering loyalists. Ruffo, 
however, at his post by the bridge, must have been ill 
at ease. Nor could the Russians have been pleased, 
as they had reckoned on reaping the sole credit of a 
clever pacification. The poor patriots skulked and 
trembled in their fortresses. By night the whole city 
was all joy and illuminations, for Naples during the 
last few years had proved a kaleidoscope of massacre 
and merry-making. Not a minute was wasted by Nel- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 289 

son. He instantly signalled that the truce was ended. 
To Ruffo, through Hamilton, he communicated his 
fixed resolve " on no account to remain neutral." In 
accord with the Queen's advice, first to require a volun- 
tary surrender, he further proposed to him that within 
two hours the French should be summoned to sur- 
render, in which case they should receive a safe- 
conduct to France, but " as for the rebels and traitors, 
no power on earth " should " stand between their 
gracious King and them." He sent Ball and Trou- 
bridge with both these missives to the Cardinal, who 
flatly refused assent or concert. Next morning he 
sent them again, with no better result. He therefore 
himself notified to Mejean his curt summons to sur- 
render, and to the rebels in the two castles that they 
must yield, and were forbidden " to embark or quit 
those places." The supple Cardinal, in his haste, had 
not only exceeded his commission, he had violated his 
express directions. Next evening Ruffo and Miche- 
roux (who was not admitted) visited the Foudroyant 
to confer with Nelson. During the whole of this stormy 
interview the Hamiltons were present, Emma acting 
as interpretess. Nelson flatly repudiated all the subtle- 
ties of one called by Hamilton the pink of Italian 
finesse. He stood by the law that kings do not capitu- 
late to rebels, and he dismissed Ruffo with his written 
opinion that the treaty needed to be ratified by his 
master. An Admiral, he added, was no match in 
such matters for a Cardinal. 

All that day of June 25, letters, conferences, in- 
trigues, confusion proceeded. From Palermo Acton 
wrote thrice. The foreign signatories entered a 
formal protest, probably arranged, and certainly car- 
ried by Micheroux to Nelson, who refused to recog- 
nise either it or him. Ruffo threatened to withdraw 
his riotous troops, and advised the rebels to profit by 



290 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

his treaty and retire by land— a course fatal for them. 
By night a trumpeter had even announced that this 
move had the sanction of Me jean, who had told 
Micheroux that if war was resumed he would not be 
answerable for consequences. Massa, who asked for 
a conference, however, repulsed all Ruffo's overtures 
as coercion. The whole of Naples lay between two 
suspended fires; and yet Ruffo, afraid of St. Elmo, 
now besought Nelson to land the troops, the offer of 
which he had put off that very morning. By the next 
evening the two castles had unconditionally sur- 
rendered. The royal colours streamed from their tur- 
rets. The loyalist nobles of the " Eletti " had started 
to implore the King's presence, and Ruffo, leagued with 
the feudal barons, must have trembled. Feux de joie 
blazed in all the streets, and from every window, side 
by side, waved the British and Neapolitan flags. 

In the meantime neither had Emma's energy been 
dormant; she did more than copy, and interpret, and 
translate the patois. She was a woman of action. 
Her enthusiasm spread among the common people, who 
adored her. She conjured with the Queen's name : — 
" I had privily seen all the Loyal party, and having the 
head of the Lazzaronys an old friend, he came in the 
night of our arrival, and told me he had 90 thousand 
Lazeronis [sic] ready, at the holding up of his finger, 
but only twenty with arms. Lord Nelson, to whom I 
enterpreted, got a large supply of arms for the rest, 
and they were deposited with this man. In the mean 
time the Calabreas [sic] were comiting murders; the 
bombs we sent . . . were returned, and the city in con- 
fusion. I sent for this Pali, the head of the Lazeroni, 
and told him, in great confidence, that the King wou'd 
be soon at Naples, and that all that we required of him 
was to keep the city quiet for ten days from that mo- 
ment. We gave him only one hundred of our marine 




Lady Hamilton at the spinning wheel. 
From the original fainting by George Romney. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 291 

troops. He with these brave men kept all the town 
in order . . . and he is to have promotion. I have 
thro' him made ' the Queen's party,' and the people 
have prayed for her to come back, and she is now 
very popular. I send her every night a messenger to 
Palermo, with all the news and letters, and she gives 
me the orders the same [way]. I have given audi- 
ences to those of her party, and settled matters between 
the nobility and Her Majesty. She is not to see on 
her arrival any of her former evil counsellors, nor the 
women of fashion, alltho' Ladys of the Bedchamber, 
formerly her friends and companions, who did her dis- 
honour by their desolute life. All, all is changed. She 
has been very unfortunate ; but she is a good woman, 
and has sense enough to profit by her past nnhappiness, 
and will make for the future amende honorable for the 
past. In short, if I can judge, it may turn out for- 
tunate that the Neapolitans have had a dose of Repub- 
licanism. . . . PS. — It wou'd be a charity to send me 
some things; for in saving all for my dear and royal 
friend, I lost my little all. Never mind." 

Bravo! Emma, rash organiser and populariser of 
the Queen's party, bold equipper and encourager of 
Pali the Lazzaroni, who, when the King at last came 
to his own again, brought all his ninety thousand men 
to welcome him at sea. We shall hearken to Emma 
again ere long. For the present, the recital of sterner 
events must be resumed. 

The plot, then, to place Naples at the mercy of the 
French had been foiled. The question that was to con- 
vulse the city on the following day was, On what terms 
had the castles surrendered? 

In trying to disentangle the difficulties of the next 
few days, a distinction should be borne in mind be- 
tween the armistice made by the Cardinal with the 
rebels (and afterwards with the French), and the 

Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 10 



292 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

capitulation itself, which it was designed to further. 
It would almost seem as if some of the rebels had al- 
ready contrived to escape from the convent of St. 
Martino, though not under the capitulatory clauses. 
Nelson would be most unlikely to reconsider any of 
these clauses, which he had peremptorily cancelled. 
But it might be thought possible that he would respect 
the armistice, which he had equally annulled. He 
might forbear to attack the rebel castles and even St. 
Elmo, with a view to their surrender. In exacting the 
unconditional surrender of the rebels, of which he had 
already given notice, and which he was again to notify, 
he never wavered. But it will be found that for the 
sake of the town's quietude, and pending some author- 
itative announcement of the King's pleasure (possibly 
recalling Ruffo), he did now temporarily desist from 
a siege, and so far obliged Ruffo. Mr. Gutteridge has 
shown by comparing and contrasting the documents, 
that when Nelson suddenly informed the Cardinal on 
June 26 that he would respect the armistice, he had no 
thought of respecting the capitulation, and that in the 
sequel he did not go back on his promise. It seems 
likely that the two cases of armistice and capitulation 
were so involved together by Micheroux and Ruffo as 
to persuade the patriots that they were free to escape 
under the terms of their convention, without submit- 
ting themselves to the sovereign whom they had defied, 
or abjuring the national foe. 

From the confusions of many documents the situa- 
tion can be clearly discerned. Mejean's main 
thought was for his own garrison. Capua still held 
out, and till it fell he disdained to surrender. His 
threats to bombard the town embarrassed Nelson alike 
and Ruffo; and, indeed, they were more than threats 
for an intermittent fire from St. Elmo nightly terrified 
Naples. Though Mejean had dictated the patriots' 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 293 

capitulation, he had restricted himself to a precarious 
armistice. Micheroux praised his nobility and mod- 
eration, but he was not above the possibility of a bribe, 
and he was perhaps indifferent to the fate of the rebels 
so long as he could stave off his own surrender. They 
on their side were willing to sacrifice the lives of the 
hostages for the security of their compact. One is 
driven to suspect that it was through Micheroux and 
Ruffo that they came to believe that Nelson had sud- 
denly and entirely changed his mind. On June 25, 
Ruffo even in offering them the choice of departure 
had warned them that Nelson refused to recognise 
their compact, and was master of the sea. That the 
next day they were misled by somebody into thinking 
that the treaty would be respected appears from a let- 
ter in July of ex-Commandant Aurora to Nelson, 
where he states his belief " in common with the garri- 
son " of being " taken to Toulon." But their mis- 
leader was not Nelson. If they could be persuaded 
that in yielding they were free to go, the odium of 
consequences would be cast on the British Admiral. 

Early on June 26 Hamilton informed Ruffo that 
Nelson had " resolved to do nothing that might break 
the armistice " ; and this Nelson confirmed with his own 
hand. 

Awaiting the King's mandate, he now humoured the 
Cardinal and forebore to attack the rebels, even while 
concerting measures against the French. His letter to 
Ruffo of June 26 breathes not a word about the cap- 
itulation, and a day earlier, Ruffo had handed Nelson's 
ultimatum to the castles. Nelson, it was afterwards 
alleged, signified in writing to Micheroux that he would 
carry out the treaty. But Micheroux owns that these 
declarations were unused, averring that his agent took 
over Castel Uovo, and the rebels marched out with 
honours of war. Troubridge, an eye-witness, is silent 



294 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

on these points, all of which Mr. Gutteridge traverses. 
Ruffo's own construction, however, of Nelson's prom- 
ise was evidenced by a service of thanksgiving. That 
evening, Troubridge and Ball with 500 marines oc- 
cupied the castles. Next day they made short work 
of the Jacobin insignia. They hewed down the Tree 
of Liberty and the red-capped giant. Rejoicing per- 
vaded the town. The castle flags were expected on 
board the Foudroyant. 

Ruffo, safe as he now felt from the King's certain 
anger, expressed his gratitude to Emma and her hus- 
band. Hamilton answered civilly, and his wife, who 
had been slaving at correspondence, must have re- 
joiced. Nelson was bound by no conditions whatever. 
If, as seems doubtful, he authorised the notice (at- 
tributed by Sacchinelli to Troubridge) that he would 
not oppose the embarkation, he went no further. A 
small quota of polaccas awaited the refugees. For the 
present, Nelson pledged his word that he would not 
molest them. But he promised no more. The day be- 
fore, Acton was informing Hamilton that the King 
might very soon come in person, and that the Cardinal 
was probably at the end of his tether; while on the 
next he wrote rejoicing that the " infamous capitula- 
tion " had been rescinded. If Ruffo persisted, he 
must be arrested and deposed, and a direct communica- 
tion from the King must by this time have reached 
Nelson. It reached him on June 28. Nelson at once 
ordered the Seahorse off to Palermo for the King's 
service, and he now distinctly warned the rebels that 
they " must submit to the King's clemency " under 
" pain of death." 

It was this letter that decided the doom of the mis- 
erable patriots who, under these circumstances, had 
been caught in a death-trap. Had the King's direc- 
tions been deferred Nelson would have stayed his hand. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 295 

As it was, the rebels instead of seeing the capitulations 
executed, were executed themselves. His warnings of 
June 25 and 28 had been disregarded by those who 
were somehow misled by his action next morning, which 
was designed to keep Ruffo quiet. Years afterwards, 
Nelson affirmed in a document dictated to Lady Ham- 
ilton : " I put aside the dishonourable treaty, and sent 
the rebels notice of it. Therefore, when the rebels 
surrendered, they came out of the castles as they 
ought, without any honours of war, and trusting to 
the judgment of their sovereign." And the British 
Government in October, 1799, fully endorsed Nelson's 
policy. 

The King's good nature had hitherto been proverb- 
ial; it was the Queen and Acton who had hitherto 
shared the odium of repression. But Ferdinand was 
now at length his own master, and his latent cruelty 
emerged the more savage because it had been long in 
abeyance, and he had now heavy scores to settle with 
fawning courtiers and spurious loyalists. No quarter 
was to be given to these false prophets ; not a man of 
them was to escape. In the ensuing hecatomb of 
slaughter the Queen acted from policy rather than re- 
venge, while Emma was so compassionate that she 
thought it necessary to reason with her. 

In Hamilton's missive to Acton of the following 
day — June 27 — occurred a significant sentence : — 

" Captain Troubridge is gone to execute the busi- 
ness, and the rebels on board of the polaccas cannot 
stir without a passport from Lord Nelson." 

The heartrending scenes that shortly ensued may be 
inferred from the numerous documents transcribed in 
Mr. Gutteridge's masterly volume. The few appeals 
to Emma's intercession given in the Morrison papers 
and by Pettigrew must stand for many more. It is 
not a creditable contrast, that of the misery of Naples 



296 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

with the triumphal salvos and Te Deum at Palermo. 
Vce Victoribus! 

That very night thirteen chained rebels were brought 
on board. The next day, the passengers awaiting de- 
liverance in fourteen polaccas found themselves bonds- 
men in Nelson's ships. Nelson certainly did not un- 
derdo his part of avenging angel — the part of what 
the Queen styled his " heroic firmness." He was St. 
Michael against the seven devils of Jacobinism, and the 
whole iron vials of retribution were poured forth. 
He represented a King who had wronged before in 
his turn he had been wronged, and who had hoarded 
his injuries. 

While the crowd on the quays vociferated with joy, 
it was not long before the dungeons of the fleet re- 
echoed to the groans and curses of ensnared and inter- 
cepted patriots. Emma must have shuddered as she 
kept to her cabin and tried to write to her Queen. 

The thirteenth of the thirteen confined in the 
Foudroyant on that 27th of June, was Caracciolo. He 
had not been included in any amnesty. On the cession 
of the castles he had fled to the mountains, but had 
been dragged from his lair by a dastardly spy. Pale, 
ashamed, and trembling, unwashen and unkempt, he 
stood silent before the stern Nelson and Troubridge. 
Who could recognise in this quailing figure the proud 
son of a feudal prince, the commodore who had learned 
seamanship in England, the trusted adherent who had 
gone to Naples such a short time since apparently loyal, 
only to become Admiral of the rebel navy? 

He had fired on his King's colours. 

That was the sole thought in the breasts of the 
grim sailors who confronted him. 

Such a catastrophe inspires horror, but of all the 
victims that were soon to glut the scaffold, Caracciolo 
had least the excuse of oppression. Many had been 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 297 

forced by the French into tempting posts on the provi- 
sional administration. Such, for example, was the 
errant but charming Domenico Cirillo, for whom 
Emma was to plead so warmly. Others, again, had 
been heroic. Such was Eleonora de Pimentel. 

But Caracciolo, though he set up the plea of duress, 
had purposely left Sicily. He was powerful, he was 
trusted, and he had proved disloyal. He has figured 
as an old man bowed with years and care. He was 
still in the prime of life. He has been pictured as a 
veteran Casabianca. To Nelson he was a rat who 
left what he supposed was a sinking ship. It might be 
pleaded as a further extenuation that his estates had 
been ravaged, and that his hapless family was large. 
But every one's property had been plundered by the 
French, and not every one had turned rebel. And yet 
despair should always command pity, and the despair 
of treachery, perhaps, most of all, for it is the tor- 
ment of a lost soul. Had Caracciolo lived under Nero, 
he might have died by himself opening a vein, like 
Vestinus. But, on the other hand, the great evil of 
unconstitutional monarchy lies in its proneness to visit 
crime with crime; as Tacitus has put it : " Scelera scele- 
ribus tuenda." 

The imagination of cherishing Italy and of free 
England has long enshrined him as the type of Lib- 
erty sacrificed in cold blood to Despotism, as innocent 
and murdered. 

In England this idea mainly originated in the gen- 
erous eloquence of Charles James Fox, who loved free- 
dom, it is true, but loved politics also; that Fox, be it 
remembered, who, when in power, once politely told 
his Catholic supporters, in opposition, to go to the 
devil. More than sixty years later, the attitude of a 
section towards the case of Governor Eyre and the 
negroes presents a close analogy to the attitude of the 



5298 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

same section towards the case of Nelson and Carac- 
ciolo. 

Caracciolo had fired on his King's colours. From the 
yard-arm of that frigate he must hang. So thought 
his captors; so, perchance, thought Caracciolo as his 
ashy lips refused the relief of words. Nelson had 
himself requested Ruffo to deliver Caracciolo into his 
hands instead of sending him to be tried at Procida. 
He was not rhadamanthine, but he was an English Ad- 
miral ; and the English had killed even Admiral Byng, 
whose crime — if crime it was — was a trifle compared 
with Caracciolo's. " To encourage the others," said 
Voltaire ; " as an example," said Nelson. 

The next day Caracciolo was " tried." Emma never 
beheld him. The process was short and sharp. He 
was condemned. Caracciolo was guilty before trial, 
but this summary trial was a farce. It would have 
been far juster — though the issue was undoubted — if 
Caracciolo had passed the ordeal of impartial judges. 
His Neapolitan inquisitors refused him the death of a 
gentleman, or even a day's reprieve for his poor soul's 
comfort. In vain the Hamiltons supplicated Nelson 
for these fitting mercies. Naturally humane, he was 
here relentless. He was neither lawyer nor priest. 
l He had not been his judge. Caracciolo's own peers 
had pronounced him guilty of death, and Nelson sen- 
tenced him. 

Caracciolo had fired at the Minerva, now com- 
manded by our old friend Count Thurn, the sentinel 
of last December. 

On June the 28th, at about five of the afternoon, 
the scarecrow of sedition swung, lashed to the 
Minerva's gallows. Though imprisonment, as was 
first suggested, would have been far humaner and 
wiser, Nelson might have echoed Homer's line: 
" So perish all who do the like again." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 299 

The bay was alive with hundreds of boats crowded 
with thousands of loyalists. For two full hours he 
dangled in sight of a gloating mob, before the rope 
was cut, and its grisly burden dropped into the sea. 
As the big southern sun dipped suddenly below the 
waves which had once witnessed the revel by which 
Nero had enticed his own mother to destruction, one 
by one the little lights of boats and quays began to 
glimmer, the scent of flowers was wafted, the bells of 
church towers tolled over the ghostly waters. The 
shore was thronged with eager spectators, gesticulat- 
ing, applauding, pointing at the mast where Carac- 
ciolo had expiated his treason. 

Mejean had himself broken the truce by assailing 
the city with his fusillade. Nelson now attacked St. 
Elmo, while Troubridge, with his troops, invested it 
by land. Its fall was timed to greet the King's ar- 
rival. 

The Seahorse brought him, together with Acton 
and Castelcicala, on the night of the 9th to the chan- 
nel of Procida, where they awaited Nelson. Next 
morning they stepped together on to the deck of the 
Foudroyant. As the Admiral and his guests sailed 
into the gulf before the last shot had reduced the 
stronghold on the hill, the sea bristled with the barques, 
the two banks of the Chiaja with the dense array of 
his welcomers. At ten o'clock he anchored. The 
boom of cannon, the noise of batteries, the " shouts of 
Generals " acclaimed the restoration of the King amid 
the salutes of victory. The King had at last come to 
his own again. But, as Emma wrote, " II est bon[ne] 
d'etre chez le roi, mais mieux d'etre chez soi[t]." She 
had toiled like a Trojan. " Our dear Lady," wrote 
Nelson a week later to her mother, " La Signora 
Madre," " has her time so much taken up with ex- 



i 3 oo EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

cuses from rebels, Jacobins, and fools, that she is every 
day most heartily tired. ... I hope we shall very 
soon return to see you. Till then, recollect that we are 
restoring happiness to the Kingdom of Naples and 
doing good to millions." " The King," wrote Emma 
gravely, pouring out, two days afterwards, her tri- 
umphs to Greville, who must have opened wide his eyes 
as he read, " has bought his experience most dearly, 
but at last he knows his friends from his enemies, and 
also knows the defects of his former government, and 
is determined to remedy them; ... his misfortunes 
have made him steady, and [to] look into himself. 
The Queen is not yet come. She sent me as her Dep- 
uty; for I am very popular, speak the Neapolitan lan- 
guage, and [am] considered, with Sir William, the 
friend of the people. The Queen is waiting at 
Palermo, and she has determined, as there has been a 
great outcry against her, not to risk coming with the 
King; for if he had not succeeded [on] his arrival, and 
not been well received, she wou'd not bear the blame 
or be in the way." " But " — and here we catch the 
true beat of Emma's heart — " But what a glory to 
our good King, to our Country, that we — our brave 
fleet, our great Nelson — have had the happiness of re- 
storing the King to his throne, to the Neapolitans their 
much-loved King, and been the instrument of giving 
a future good and just government to the Neapol- 
itans! . . . The guilty are punished and the faithful 
rewarded. I have not been on shore but once. The 
King gave us leave to go as far as St. Elmo's, to see 
the effect of the bombs! I saw at a distance our 
despoiled house in town, and Villa Emma, that have 
been plundered. Sir William's new apartment — a 
bomb burst in it ! It made me so low-spirited, I don't 
desire to go again. 

" We shall, as soon as the Government is fixed, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 301 

return to Palermo, and bring back the royal family; 
for I foresee not any permanent government till that 
event takes place. Nor wou'd it be politick, after all 
the hospitality the King and Queen received at 
Palermo, to carry them off in a hurry. So you see 
there is great management required. I am quite worn 
out. For I am interpreter to Lord Nelson, the King 
and Queen; and altogether feil quite shattered; but as 
things go well, that keeps me up. We dine now every 
day with the King at 12 o'clock. Dinner is over by 
one. His Majesty goes to sleep, and we sit down to 
write in this heat; and on board you may guess what 
we suffer. My mother is at Palermo, but I have an 
English lady x with me, who is of use to me, in writ- 
ing, and helping to keep papers and things in order. 
We have given the King all the upper cabin, all but 
one room that we write in and receive the ladies who 
come to the King. Sir William and I have an apart- 
ment below in the ward-room, and as to Lord Nelson, 
he is here and there and everywhere. I never saw such 
zeal and activity in any one as in this wonderful man. 
My dearest Sir William, thank God, is well and of the 
greatest use now to the King. We hope Capua will 
fall in a few days, and then we will be able to return 
to Palermo. On Sunday last we had prayers on 
board. The King assisted, and was much pleased 
with the order, decency, and good behaviour of the 
men, the officers, etc." 

The self-consciousness, the strenuousness, the devo- 
tion, the enthusiasm, the egotism, and yet the sympathy 
— all the old elements are here. She had thirsted for 
the blood and thunder of her girlhood's romances; she 
now beheld blood and thunder in reality. The " much- 
loved " King had a summary way of finishing off his 
enemies, and bribery as well as butchery reigned in 

1 Miss Cornelia Knight. 



3 02 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Naples. The Morrison Collection gives but three of 
the appeals to Lady Hamilton's kind heart. Of one 
the ring is tragic. A snatch of humour is welcome. 
A certain Englishman, Matthew Wade, was a loyalist 
in Naples. He it was who had begged Ruffo to grant 
him troops for the occupation of the castles. 
Troubles, in these troublous times, had fallen on his 
household, and I cannot refrain from subjoining a 
passage in a letter of his about them to Emma. 

" I beg leave to remind your Ladyship that the 
Governour's finances is become very low, and I sup- 
pose in a short time I will lose my credit, as my house 
was plundered when I was in prison, under a pretext of 
finding papers and being a Royalist ; and after, by the 
Calabrace before my return here, for being a Jacobine. 
The last was a dirty business, as they robbed my 
mother-in-law of her shift. She said six, tho' I never 
knew her and her daughter to have but three, as I well 
remember they usually disputed who was to put on 
the clean shift of a Sunday morning. However, I was 
obliged to buy six shifts in order to live quiet. Pray 
assure her Majesty and General Acton that I can't hold 
out much longer. Besides, my family is increased. I 
have got a cat and a horse which has been robbed from 
me by the Jacobines. I met him with a prince, and 
took emediately possession of him as my real proprity. 
... I am told a conspiracy has been discovered and a 
sum of money found, in order to let seventeen of the 
principal Jacobines escape, now confined (and they are 
marked for execution) in the Castell-Nuovo ; they say 
the Governor (from whom they have taken the com- 
mand) is deeply conserned in the business. I am sorry 
for him, tho' I have no acquaintance with the man, but 
I am told he is a brave man and a soldier. But there 
is something in the air of the climate that softens the 
nerve so much, that I never knew a man — nay, nor a 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 303 

woman of the country — that cou'd resist the temptation 
of gold." Thus Matthew Wade, humourist and phi- 
losopher. 

The Vicariate of Naples was now reposed in the 
Duke of Salandra, who had always been loyal. Nelson 
appointed Troubridge Commodore of the Naples 
squadron, and presented him with the broad, red pen- 
nant. Nelson himself was soon to be elevated for a 
time to the chief Mediterranean command. The 1st 
of August was celebrated with as much rejoicing as 
the situation allowed. Nelson relates to his wife, not 
in " vanity " but in " gratitude," the King's toast, the 
royal salute from the Sicilian ships of war, the vessel 
turned into a Roman galley in the midst of which, 
among the " fixed lamps," stood a repetition of last 
year's " rostral column," the illuminations, the mag- 
nificent orchestra, the proud cantata — Nelson came, the 
invincible Nelson, and they were preserved and again 
made happy. Indeed, Leghorn and Capua had both 
surrendered, as well as Naples. By the 9th of August 
the Foudroyant with its jubilant inmates had returned 
to Palermo. 

Emma had again triumphed. But at what a cost to 
her peace of mind ! A royal reign of terror had un- 
nerved her. She was never to see " dear, dear 
Naples " again. Her husband leaned upon her daily 
more and more ; and yet the active association of nearly 
two months, which seemed like two years, had brought 
her and Nelson closer than ever together as affinities. 
All along it was the force and vigour of her character 
far more than her charms and accomplishments that 
appealed to him, and her unflagging strength of spirit 
had never displayed itself to greater advantage than 
during these trials of the last few months. She tended 
faster and faster towards some irrevocable step, the 



304 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

very shadow of which perturbed while it allured her. 
A note of discord jars on the whole tune of her 
triumph. 

On one of the short sea expeditions, so rumour goes, 
that time had allowed them to join in making, a phan- 
tom had startled them. Out of the depths the livid 
body of Caracciolo, long immersed but still buoyant, 
had risen from nothingness and fixed them with its 
sightless gaze. 



CHAPTER X 

HOMEWARD BOUND 

To December, 1800 

THERE is an almost imperceptible turning-point 
in career, as in age, when the slope of the hill 
verges downwards. Emma had now reached 
her summit. Henceforward, in gradual curves, her 
path descends. 

The royal fete champetre at Palermo in Nelson's 
honour eclipsed each previous pageant. No splendour 
seemed adequate to the national gratitude. The Tem- 
ple of Fame in the palace gardens, its exquisitely mod- 
elled group of Nelson led by Sir William to receive his 
wreath from the hands of Emma as Victory; the royal 
reception and embrace of the trio at its portals, and the 
laurel-wreaths with which Ferdinand crowned them; 
the Egyptian pyramids with their heroic inscriptions; 
the Turkish Admiral and his suite in their gorgeous 
trappings, grave and contemptuous of the homage paid 
to the fair sex; the young Prince Leopold in his mid- 
shipman's uniform, who, mounting the steps at the 
pedestal of Nelson's statue, crowned it with a diamond 
laurel-wreath to the strains of " See the Conquering 
Hero " ; the whole court blazing with jewels emblematic 
of the allied conquests; the mimic battle of the Nile 
in fireworks; the new cantata of the "Happy Con- 
cord," and the whole Opera band, with the younger 
Senesino at their head, bursting at the close into " Rule 

305 



306 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Britannia " and " God save the King " ; the weather- 
beaten Nelson himself moved to tears — all these 
formed picturesque features of a memorable night. 
Lieutenant Parsons, an eye-witness, thus alludes to it 
and the tutelary goddess both of the royal house and 
its two defenders, by sword and pen : — 

" A fairy scene . . . presided over by the Genius of 
Taste, whose attitudes were never equalled, and with 
a suavity of manner and a generous openness of mind 
and heart, where selfishness, with its unamiable con- 
comitants, pride, envy, and jealousy, would never dwell 
- — I mean Emma, Lady Hamilton. . . . The scene [of 
the young Prince crowning Nelson] was deeply affect- 
ing, and many a countenance that had looked with un- 
concern on the battle . . . now turned aside, ashamed 
of their . . . weakness." Viva Nelson! Viva Miledi! 
Viva Hamilton! rent the air. 

Emma divided the honours with Nelson. A tor- 
rent of stanzas gushed from the Sicilian improvisatori ; 
even surgeons burst into song. 

But there were more substantial favours. Nelson 
received not only a magnificent sword of honour and 
caskets of remembrance, together with, a few months 
later, the newly founded order of merit, but, partly by 
means of Emma's advocacy, the title and estates of the 
Duchy of Bronte. These, however, through the mis- 
management first of Grafer and afterwards of Gibbs, 
yielded a poor and most precarious revenue for him, 
and, as will be seen hereafter, a fluctuating one for 
Emma, whose annuity was to be charged upon it. The 
title " Bronte," with its Greek derivation of thunder, 
so curiously according with the name of his vessel, 
caused Nelson afterwards to be continually styled by 
Emma and his sisters " Jove " the thunderer. Pres- 
ents poured in upon him : the Crescent from the Grand 
Signior, the sword and cane from Zante, commemorat- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 307 

ing the deliverance of Greece, the grants from English 
companies. Nor was Emma without royal recogni- 
tion. A queenly trousseau awaited her on her arrival, 
and she received regal jewels, valued, it was said, at 
six thousand pounds, but which she sold two years 
afterwards, to Nelson's admiration, for her husband's 
benefit. " Nestor," indeed, was becoming more and 
more involved in debt, and about this period he bor- 
rowed over two thousand pounds from Nelson. He 
was not only worried, but worn. He took offence at 
trifles, and had quarrelled even with Acton. 

Nelson did not dally, though Downing Street pained 
him by its insinuations. From all these festivities his 
alertness at once returned to vigilance and service. 
Not a fortnight passed before — occupied as he was with 
every sort of multifarious correspondence — he sent 
Duckworth to protect the British trade, on the main- 
tenance of which he laid infinite stress, at Lisbon and 
Oporto, to watch Cadiz, and to keep the Straits open. 
He minutely directed Ball's operations at Malta, still 
hampered by every vexatious delay on the Italian side, 
and by the follies of Nizza, the Portuguese Admiral. 
Early in September he charged Troubridge and Louis 
with their mission to Civita Vecchia, which within a 
month freed Rome from the French. Directly he re- 
ceived this most cheering intelligence, he himself started 
in the Foudroyant for Port Mahon, with the one object 
of concentrating every available force by land and sea 
on the complete reduction of Malta, which remained 
ever in his " thoughts, sleeping or waking." He did 
not land at Palermo till October, when he was able to 
announce to Sidney Smith (uniformly and magnani- 
mously helped, praised, and counselled by him through- 
out) that Buonaparte had passed Corsica in a bombard 
steering for France. No crusader ever returned with 
more humility — contrast his going in L'Orient. All 



308 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the same this was ill news, and Nelson was furious also 
at not receiving troops from Minorca, and at the frauds 
of the victualling department. He kept a sharp look- 
out on the Barbary States and pirates. He deplored 
the inactivity of the Russian squadron at La Valetta, 
and he resented the Austrian demand for their pres- 
ence elsewhere ; his representations caused a " cool re- 
ception " to the Archduke's suite when they visited 
Palermo. By Christmas he cursed the stupidity which 
had allowed Napoleon, hasting back for his strokes at 
Paris, to elude the allies. But above all, both he and 
Emma strained every nerve to extort grain for starv- 
ing Malta from the King and Queen of Naples chican- 
ing with Acton to retain every bushel for their own 
necessities. Until, after " infamous " delays and falsi- 
fied promises, the dole was granted which saved thirty 
thousand of the Maltese loyalists from death, he 
" cursed the day " he " ever served the King of Na- 
ples." " Such," he wrote to Troubridge, " is the fever 
of my brain this minute, that I assure you, on my hon- 
our, if the Palermo traitors were here, I would shoot 
them first and myself afterwards." Troubridge was 
equally emphatic. The Maltese deputies lodged under 
Emma's roof. She was their " Ambassadress." It 
was not long before Emma's services in this matter 
were publicly recognised by the Czar, as Grand Master 
of the Maltese Knights. When he bestowed the Grand 
Cross on Nelson and on Ball, he also bestowed it on 
Lady Hamilton, with a special request to the King of 
England for his licence to wear it there, the only occa- 
sion, as she was ever proud to relate, that it had ever 
been conferred upon an Englishwoman. 1 This order 

1 Cf. Nelson Letters, vol. i. p. 271. The vexed question of 
whether she spent as much as £5000 on this matter scarcely re- 
pays investigation. The fact remains that her services were 
sufficient for imperial recognition, and that the King of England 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 309 

she wore next year at Vienna, and it still figures in a 
portrait of her taken there, as well as in a drawing of 
her in 1803 by Sir Thomas Lawrence. She was styled 
" Dame Chevaliere of the Order of St. John of Jeru- 
salem," and from this time forward Ball always ad- 
dressed her as " sister." 

But the Maltese embroilments were by no means 
the sole annoyances that distracted Nelson's sensitive 
nature. He was stung to the quick by the Admiralty's 
complaints and suspicions. " As a junior Flag officer, 
. . . without secretaries, etc.," he wrote home, " I 
have been thrown into a more extensive correspondence 
than ever perhaps fell to the lot of any Admiral, and 
into a political situation, I own, out of my sphere. . . . 
It is a fact that I have never but three times put my 
feet on the ground since December, 1798, and except 
to the court, that till after 8 o'clock at night I never 
relax from my business." " Do not," he breaks out 
to Lord Spencer, " let the Admiralty write harshly to 
me — my generous soul cannot bear it, being conscious 
that it is entirely unmerited " ; and, once more, to Com- 
missioner Inglefield, " You must make allowances for 
a worn-out, blind, left-handed man." 

Nor was he least tormented by the growing passion 

allowed her to wear the order on her return. Her own account 
in a letter to Greville, hitherto uncited, is this : " I have rendered 
some service to the poor Maltese. I got them ten thousand 
pounds, and sent corn when they were in distress." — Nelson 
Letters, vol. i. p. 277. Her Prince Regent's Memorial alleges 
details : " I received the deputies, open'd their despatches, and 
without hesitation I went down to the port to try what could 
be done. I found lying there several vessels loaded with corn 
for Ragusa. I immediately purchased the cargoes : . . . this 
service Sir Alexander Ball in his letters to me, as well as to 
Lord Nelson, plainly states to be the means whereby he was 
enabled to preserve that important island. I had to borrow a 
considerable sum on this occasion, which I since repaid, and 
with my own private money this expended was nothing short 
of £5000." — Morrison MS. 1046. 



3 io EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

of his heart. His utterances are despondent. The 
East India Company had voted ten thousand pounds in 
token of their gratitude. Two thousand pounds of it 
he bestowed on his relations; the whole was placed at 
his wife's disposal. " I that never yet had any money 
to think about, should be surprised if I troubled my 
head about it," he told his old intimate and business 
manager, Davison (the rich contractor of St. James's 
Square), whom, after the Nile battle, he had appointed 
agent for his scanty prize-money. " In my state of 
health, of what consequence is all the wealth of this 
world? I took for granted that the East India Com- 
pany would pay their noble gift to Lady Nelson; and 
whether she lays it out in house or land, is, I assure 
you, a matter of perfect indifference to me. . . . Oh! 
my dear friend, if I have a morsel of bread and cheese 
in comfort it is all I ask of kind Heaven, until I reach 
the estate of six foot by two which I am fast approach- 
ing." It was not long before Maltese successes had 
quite restored his spirits, and Ball could write to say 
how happy it made him to think that " His Grace " 
could enjoy exercise in company with the Hamiltons. 
All this is characteristic of a tense organisation by turns 
on the rack and on the rebound, yet with an evenness 
of patriotism and purpose immovable beneath its 
elasticity. 

Emma's fever of enthusiasm showed no abatement. 
She immediately gave Nelson the pine-appled teapot 
which has this year been generously presented with 
other relics to the Greenwich Painted Chamber. His 
letters to her breathed an affectionate respect. " May 
God almighty bless you," one of them closes, " and all 
my friends about you, and believe me amongst the most 
faithful and affectionate of your friends." Was she 
not the " Victory " who had crowned him with honour? 
He reposed such confidence in the Hamiltons that dur^ 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 311 

ing his absences he empowered them to open all his 
letters. 

But already there appeared a seamier side to Emma's 
heroic gloss. The unreinstated Queen still ailed in 
health and spirits. She had set her heart on accom- 
panying the King to Naples in his projected visit this 
November, yet he had flatly refused. She seems to 
have turned from the pious devotions which after her 
darling boy's death had engrossed her to the delirium 
of play. The King loved his quiet rubber, but he was 
no gambler. The Queen gambled furiously — all her 
moods were extreme ; she was a medley of passions. 
She had been Emma's lucky star, but all along her evil 
genius. Emma for the first time was bitten by the 
mania. Sir William's fortunes were crippled; she 
might sometimes be seen nightly with piles of gold be- 
side her on the green baize. Troubridge bluntly re- 
monstrated. His remonstrance, however, he added* 
did not arise from any " impertinent interference, but 
from a wish to warn you of the ideas that are going 
about," and to " the construction put on things which 
may appear to your Ladyship innocent, and I make no 
doubt done with the best intention. Still, your enemies 
will, and do, give things a different colouring." To 
his delight, she promised him to play no more. That 
promise was shortlived; it was not likely to last. 
Women of Emma's buoyancy and volatile salt are not 
easily weaned from the false flutter of such a game. 
All along her vein had been one of thrill under un- 
certainty, and her whole course a cast for high stakes. 
" I wish not to trust to Dame Fortune too long," wrote 
Nelson to her in possible allusion ; " she is a fickle dame, 
and I am no courtier." And reports — some of them 
untrue and most, exaggerated — were beginning to filter 
into England and affront the regularities of red-tape. 
Nelson was depicted as Rinaldo in Armida's bower. 



312 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

He is not shown to have himself gambled, but it was 
rumoured that he assisted, half asleep, at these revels, 
till the small hours of the morning, and this though 
his father appears to have been unwell at the time. 
That she played with Nelson's money to the tune of 
£500 a night — a rumour hardly confirmed by his bank- 
book. That Sir William and he had nearly settled dif- 
ferences by duel — a preposterous idea. That the royal 
bounty to her amounted to a value some five times 
greater than it seemingly was. That the singers whom 
Emma was constantly befriending and recommending 
were a byword for their scandalous behaviour. It 
never crossed her mind that anybody wished her ill. 
Both the Hamiltons and Nelson had been living in an 
isolated fool's paradise of popularity, remote from the 
canons or the realities of England. They hugged the 
illusion of home popularity. Unpopularity, whether 
deserved or due to envy or ill-nature, usually comes as 
a shock and a surprise to those who have provoked it 
far less than Lady Hamilton. She had long passed 
the patronage of that English society which only con- 
dones in a parvenue what it can patronise. It now re- 
sented her intrusion, while it resented more, and with 
better reason, her perpetual association with Nelson, 
who owned himself happy with the Hamiltons alone, 
and suspicious of letters being opened. The Govern- 
ment too had now decided to recall Hamilton. '' You 
may not know," Troubridge told her, " that you have 
many enemies. I therefore risk your displeasure by 
telling you. I am much gratified you have taken it, as 
/ meant it — purely good. You tell me I must write 
you all my wants. The Queen is the only person who 
pushes things; you must excuse me; I trust nothing 
there," he continues with personal soreness, " nor do I, 
or ever shall ask from the court of Naples anything but 
for their service, and the just demands I have on them." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 313 

His motives leak out in the concluding- sentences about 
Lord Keith : "... I should have been a very rich man 
if I had served George III. instead of the King of 
Naples. . . . The new Admiral, I suppose, will send 
us home — the new hands will serve them better, as they 
will soon be all from the north, full of liberality and 
generosity, as all Scots are with some exceptions." 
Emma's own account deserves to be cited also. It oc- 
curs in a letter to Greville, hitherto unnoticed, is per- 
fectly truthful, and seeks to protect not herself, but 
her husband and Nelson : — " We are more united and 
comfortable than ever, in spite of the infamous Jacobin 
papers jealous of Lord Nelson's glory and Sir Will- 
iam's and mine. But we do not mind them. Lord 
N. is a truly vertuous and great man ; and because we 
have been fagging, and ruining our health, and sacri- 
ficing every comfort in the cause of loyalty, our pri- 
vate characters are to be stabbed in the dark. First it 
was said Sir W. and Lord N. fought; then that we 
played and lost. First Sir W. and Lord N. live like 
brothers ; next Lord N. never plays : and this I give 
you my word of honour. So I beg you will contradict 
any of these vile reports. Not that Sir W. and Lord 
N. mind it ; and I get scolded by the Queen and all of 
them for having suffered one day's uneasiness." l 

Yet she was by no means the slave of her new excite- 
ment. She tried to heal old wounds, she corresponded 
with diplomatists ; she could not relinquish her part of 
female politician, the less so as Hamilton had now set- 
tled to return home on the first opportunity, and the 
Queen was desolated at the mere thought of separa- 
tion. 2 The Duchess of Sorrentino besought her good 

1 Nelson Letters, vol. i. p. 269, Lady Hamilton to Greville, 
February 25, 1800. 

'Morrison MS. 444, 484. In the first Hamilton tells Greville 
" the Queen is really so fond of Emma that the parting will be 



3 I4 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

offices from Vienna, and in urging her suit Emma 
abused the King so roundly, that in his umbrage he 
turned violently both on her and the Queen. A heated 
scene ensued — so heated, indeed, that the monarch de- 
manded Emma's death and threatened to throw her out 
of the window for her contempt of court. 1 

Nelson's acting chief command expired on January 
6, 1800. Ill, and with a fresh murmur of " unkind- 
ness," he put himself under Lord Keith's directions at 
Leghorn. The blockade of Malta, which had lasted 
over a year, the as yet uncaptured remnant of the 
French squadron from the Nile, the resolve that the 
French army should not be suffered to quit Egypt — 
these were the objects, now shared with Emma, of his 
thoughts and of his dreams. He determined to run 
the risk of independent action. To Malta he pro- 
ceeded instantly, and he was transported with joy when 
he captured Le Genereux, though he had yet to wait 
for the eventual surrender of the single remaining 
frigate to his officers. " I feel anxious," he wrote in 
February to Emma, during his constant correspond- 
ence with the Hamiltons, " to get up with these ships, 
and shall be unhappy not to take them myself, for first 
my greatest happiness is to serve my gracious King 
and Country, and I am envious only of glory; for if it 
be a sin to covet glory, I am the most offending soul 
alive. But here I am in a heavy sea and thick fog ! — 
Oh God ! the wind subsided — but I trust to Providence 
I shall have them. Eighteenth, in the evening, I have 
got her — Le Genereux — thank God! twelve out of 



a serious business." In the second, " Emma is in despair at the 
thought of parting from the Queen." Emma herself says, 
" . . .1 am miserable to leave my dearest friend. She cannot 
be consoled." — Nelson Letters, vol. i. p. 272. 

1 He became excellent friends, however, with her afterwards, 
and joined in pleasant messages to her so late as 1803. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON '315 

thirteen, only the Guillaume Telle remaining; I am 
after the others, I have not suffered the French Ad- 
miral to contaminate the Foudroyant by setting his foot 
in her." By the end of March the end of the Maltese 
blockade was in sight, and Nelson was back again in 
Palermo. His health was so " precarious," that he 
" dropped with a pain in his heart," and was " always 
in a fever." Troubridge was deputed to finish the 
Maltese operations. When Nelson heard of the cap- 
ture of the Guillaume Telle through Long and Black- 
wood, his cup of thankfulness ran over, and his 
despatch to Nepean is a Nunc dimittis. 

" Pray let me know," wrote Ball from Malta in 
March, " what Sir William Hamilton is determined on; 
he is the most amiable and accomplished man I know, 
and his heart is certainly one of the best in the world. 
I wish he and her Ladyship would pay me a visit ; they 
are an irreparable loss to me. ... I long to know 
Lord Nelson's determination." Ball had not long to 
wait. Nelson was anxious to settle affairs finally for 
Great Britain at Malta, — a settlement that eventually 
transferred it to Britain and greatly exasperated Maria 
Carolina. Sir William had now been definitely super- 
seded by his unwelcome successor Paget, although he 
allowed himself the fond hope of a future return. He 
resolved to sail on the Foudroyant, accompanied by his 
friends and the indispensable poetess, Miss Knight. On 
April 23 they proceeded from Palermo to Syracuse — 
the scene of Emma's triumph by the waters of Are- 
thusa. Her birthday was celebrated on board by toasts 
and songs. On May 3 they again set sail and anchored 
in St. Paul's Bay before the next evening. 

Hitherto only rumour had been busy with Nelson's 
philanderings. Lord St. Vincent persisted to the last 
in saying that he and Emma were only a simpering edi- 
tion of Romeo and Juliet — just a silly pair of senti- 



316 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

mental fools. And at this time Sir William seems to 
have thought the same; it was all Emma's " Sensibil- 
ity," all Nelson's loyal devotion. He was the idol of 
them both. But this voyage southward under the large 
Sicilian stars marks the climax of that fence of pas- 
sion, the first approaches, the feints, parries, and thrusts 
of which I have sought to depict. The " three joined 
in one," as they called themselves, had long been un- 
severed. From the date of the Malta visit, as events 
prove, the liaison between the two of the trio ceases to 
be one of hearts merely. The Mediterranean has been 
the cradle of religion, of commerce, and of empire. On 
the Mediterranean Nelson had won his spurs and ven- 
tured his greatest exploit; on it had happened the rise 
of Emma's passion and his own, and it was now to be 
the theatre of their fall. 1 

It has been well said that apologies only try to ex- 
cuse what they fail to explain, and any apology for 
the bond which ever afterwards united them would be 
idle. Yet a few reflections should be borne seriously 
in mind. The firm tie that bound them, they them- 
selves felt eternally binding ; no passing whim had fast- 
ened it, nor any madness of a moment. They had 
plighted a real troth which neither of them ever either 
broke or repented. Both found and lost themselves 
in each other. Their love was no sacrifice to lower in- 
stincts; it was a true link of hearts. Nelson would 
have adored Emma had she not been so beautiful. She 
worshipped him the more for never basking in court or 
official sunshine. And their passion was lasting as 
well as deep. Not even calumny has whispered that 

1 From a passage, however, in a letter from Nelson of 
February 17, 1801, it would seem to have happened earlier. 
Cf. Morrison MS. 516: "Ah! my dear friend, I did remember 
well the 12th February, and also the two months afterwards. 
I never shall forget them, and never be sorry for the con- 
sequences." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 317 

Emma was ever unfaithful even to Nelson's memory; 
and Nelson held their union, though unconsecrated, 
as wholly sacred and unalterable. If the light of their 
torch was not from heaven, at least its intensity was 
undimmed. 

Their worst wrong, however, was to the defied and 
wounded wife. Cold letters had already reached Nel- 
son, and rankling words may already have been ex- 
changed; Lady Nelson's jealousy was justified, al- 
though as yet Nelson never meditated repudiation. 
Emma had no scruple in hardening his heart and her 
own towards one whom she had offended unseen and 
unprovoked; she would suffer none to dispute her 
dominion. Under her spell, Nelson perverted the 
whole scale of duty and of circumstance. In his en- 
chanted eyes wedlock became sacrilege, and passion a 
sacrament; his insulted Fanny seemed the insulter; his 
Emma's dishonour, honour. The woman who had 
failed to nerve or share his genius, turned into an un- 
worthy persecutress and termagant; she who had suc- 
ceeded, into the pattern of womankind. The mistress 
of his home was confronted by the mistress of his 
heart, Vesta by Venus; nor did he for one moment 
doubt which was the interloper. Unregenerateness ap- 
peared grace to his warped vision. Nothing but sin- 
cerity can extenuate, nothing but sheer human nature 
can explain these deplorable transposals. The reality 
for him of this marriage of the spirit without the let- 
ter, blinded both of them to all other realities outside 
it. Emma's few surviving letters to him are those of 
an idolising wife. One unfamiliar sentence from one 
of his, written within a year of this period, speaks vol- 
umes: "I worship, nay, adore you, and if you was 
single, and I found you under a hedge, I would in- 
stantly marry you." 1 

1 Morrison MS. 539, Nelson to Lady H., March 6, 1801. 



318 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

But the part of Sir William in this strange alliance 
formed, perhaps, its strangest element. Throughout, 
even after Greville and the caricatures in the shop win- 
dows must have opened his eyes, he deliberately shut 
them. He never ceased his attachment to Emma or 
abated his chivalrous fealty to Nelson. Those feelings, 
incredible as it may sound, were genuinely recipro- 
cated by both of them. He seems almost to have more 
than accepted that veil of mystification with which the 
next year was to shroud their intimacy. Indeed, it was 
Emma's care for Nelson's career, and Nelson's for her 
good name, that constrained the fiction. That a 
woman should join a daughter's devotion to an old 
husband with a wife's devotion to the lover of her 
choice, is a phenomenon in female psychology. Swift 
towards Stella and Vanessa, Goethe towards Mina and 
Bettina, are not the only men who have cherished a 
dual constancy ; but, as a rule, the woman inconstant to 
one will prove inconstant to many others. 

Miss Knight noticed how low-spirited Emma seemed 
on the return passage to Palermo. Indeed, the 
familiar stanzas of her composing, " Come, cheer up, 
fair Emma " — a line often repeated in Nelson's later 
letters — were prompted by this unaccountable melan- 
choly. 1 Such dispiritment hardly betokens the mood of 
an adventuress intriguing to secure a successor to the 
fading Hamilton. Yet such was Lord Minto's con- 
viction two years later. It is curious that the im- 
puters of craft always deny her a spark of cleverness, 
and they must certainly have thought Nelson much 

1 Nelson, writing to Lady Hamilton in the following year 
(only three days before Horatia's birth), says: "When I 
consider that this day nine months was your birthday, and 
that although we had a gale of wind, yet I was happy and 
sang ' Come, cheer up, fair Emma,' etc., even the thoughts 
compared with this day make me melancholy." — Morrison MS. 
503, January 26, 1801. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 319 

stupider than themselves. Worldlings do not always 
know the world, still less the world of such a com- 
plex heart as Emma's. Her feelings may perhaps be 
best imagined by her little poem sent to Nelson at the 
opening of his last year on earth. 

" I think I have not lost my heart, 
Since I with truth can swear, 
At every moment of my life, 
I feel my Nelson there. 

If from thine Emma's breast her heart 

Were stolen or thrown away, 
Where, where should she my Nelson's love 

Record, each happy day? 

If from thine Emma's breast her heart 

Were stolen or flown away, 
Where, where should she engrave, my Love, 

Each tender word you say? 

Where, where should Emma treasure up 

Her Nelson's smiles and sighs, 
Where mark with joy each secret look 

Of love from Nelson's eyes? 

Then do not rob me of my heart, 

Unless you first forsake it; 
And then so wretched it would be, 

Despair alone will take it." l 

In these lines, surely, there is a ring of " les larmes 
dans la voix." 

In sixteen days the Maltese episode was over, but 
Palermo was not reached for eleven days more. Nel- 
son had pleaded complete exhaustion as his reason for 
being unable to continue at present in his subordinate 
command. Lord Spencer sent him a dry and sus- 
picious answer. Nelson desired to recruit his health 
at home. He bemoaned the supineness of those who 

1 Nelson Letters, vol. ii. p. 127. 



3 20 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

might have prevented the fresh invasion of Italy. Al- 
ready he had bidden his friend Davison to announce 
his impending return to Lady Nelson : " I fancy," the 
mutual friend wrote to her, " that your anxious mind 
will be relieved by receiving all that you hold sacred 
and valuable." She " alternated between a menace 
and a sigh." But she was not to behold him so soon 
as had been expected, or to test the truth of what had 
been darkly hinted. The Hamiltons were to be his 
companions, and the Queen had for the last three 
months been preparing a plan for their joint con- 
venience. Now wholly bereft of her power over 
and the affection of her husband, vainly exerting her- 
self to induce Lord Grenville to retain Hamilton at his 
post, dreading that England would withdraw her fleet, 
suspicious, too, that Britain might rob the Sicilies of 
Malta, she resolved, in her isolation, to visit her rela- 
tiyes at Vienna, after a private and political visit to 
Leghorn. The three princesses and Prince Leopold 
were to go with her, and Prince Castelcicala, bound on 
a special mission to the Court of St. James, was to 
head the train of a numerous suite. The French were 
now once more beginning to defeat the Austrians, and 
she longed to set off before it might be too late. 
What so natural as that the Tria juncta in uno should 
accompany her till the inevitable wrench of parting-? 

One of her letters to Emma three months previously 
reveals at once the state of her own perplexed and per- 
plexing mind, her reliance on Emma's counsel, and the 
cause of Castelcicala's mission. So much depends on 
the point of view. Throughout, hers had been ^utterly 
alien to the average Englishwoman's : — 

" My dear Lady, — I have been compelled by a 
painful affair to delay my reply, and I write this, my 
dear friend, in great pain. . . . Do you remember that 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 321 

on Tuesday evening I asked you if you had received 
any letter ; you told me no : my eyes filling with tears, 
I was obliged to leave you. I wrote that I was dread- 
fully depressed. ... I send you the substance of my 
letter from Circello. The official one seems to con- 
tain no more, but as this fatal packet from Paget ap- 
pears to hinge upon our not being left here without a 
minister during your husband's absence, I think it may 
yet be remedied. I am in despair. I am excessively 
angry with Circello for not having more strongly op- 
posed it, and if you, my good, honest, true friends, quit 
us, let them leave Keith in the Mediterranean. We 
begin by losing you, our good friends, then our hero 
Nelson, and finally, the friendship and alliance of Eng- 
land; for a young man [Paget?] liable to misbehave 
himself through the temptations of wrong-headed men 
who will induce him to abuse his power, will not be 
tolerated, and troubles will arise from it. I grieve 
to cause you uneasiness ; my own is concealed, but bit- 
terly felt. I send you, my good friend, the original 
letter from Circello. Do not let Campbell see it, or 
know that you have seen it, and return it to-morrow 
morning. . . . Suggest to me what should be done to 
prevent this misfortune . . . both for the State and 
for my feelings. . . . I will do whatever you counsel 
me. ... Do not afflict yourself. Tell the Chevalier 
I have never felt till now how much I am attached to 
him, how much I owe him. My eyes swim with tears, 
and I must finish by begging you to suggest to me what 
to do, and believe that all my life happy or wretched, 
wherever it may be, I shall be always your sin- 
cere, attached, tender, grateful, devoted, sorrowful 
friend." 

None the less, the anniversary of King George's 
birthday was celebrated with undiminished fervour at 
Palermo. Every member of the royal family ad- 



$22 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

dressed separate letters of compliment to Lady Ham- 
ilton. Their Anglomania still prevailed. 

Among these valedictions is a letter of less formal 
interest. Lady Betty Foster had commended a 
protegee — Miss Ashburner — to Emma's protection. 
She had married a Neapolitan, and, as Eliza Perconte, 
was now governess to one of the princesses. " With 
me," she says, " the old English proverb, ' out of sight, 
out of mind,' will never find a place." Emma had 
conciliated all but the Jacobins. Her unceremonious 
kindness had endeared her to many loving friends 
among the lowest as well as the highest. The sailors 
and the common people would have died for her. 
Her absence made a real void. Lord Bristol was now 
once more at Naples — it is a pity that the farewell of 
one so unaccountable is missing. Prince Belmonte's, 
however, is not, though it was addressed from Peters- 
burg to Vienna. " I am so indebted to you," he writes 
in English, " and you deserve so much to be loved, 
that my gratitude and sincere friendship will last till 
my tomb. God bless you in your long travels." 

Farewell was now said not only to Palermo, but to 
Italy. Nevermore did Emma behold " the land of the 
cypress and myrtle," the land of her hero's laurels, of 
her husband's adoption, of her own zenith. It must 
often hereafter have haunted her dreams. 

She, with her husband, mother, and Miss Knight, 
accompanied the Queen and Nelson to Leghorn. They 
sailed on June 10, and anchored five days later, though 
Nelson's usual tempest prevented a landing for two 
days more. This marks the last of the Foudroyant 
for the chief actors in the memorable scenes of this 
and the previous year. It had proved a ship of his- 
tory and of romance. Nelson had pressed the Govern- 
ment to put it at the Queen's disposal as far as Trieste, 
but it was promptly requisitioned for repairs; Mrs. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON '323 

Grundy, in the person of Queen Charlotte, may have 
intervened. Bitterly disappointed, its barge's crew at 
once petitioned to be allowed to serve in any ship 
which their great Admiral might still choose for his 
homeward journey. The news that on July 11 Nel- 
son had struck his flag spread consternation at 
Palermo. 

For three weeks more they all tarried at Leghorn. 
Nelson and his party met with a royal welcome, and 
were conducted in state to the Cathedral with the 
Queen. All received splendid memorials from Maria 
Carolina. Emma's was a diamond necklace with 
ciphers of the royal children's names intertwined with 
locks of their hair. The Queen, in presenting it, as- 
sured her that it was she who had been their means of 
safety. Nor were they safe at present. The French 
army was gradually advancing towards Lucca in their 
immediate neighbourhood. Nelson sent, a line of as- 
surance to Acton that till safety was secured and plans 
were settled, he would not desert the Queen. Emma 
was still paramount; nor was it long before, and for 
the last time, she displayed that ready presence of 
mind, and power of popularity with crowds that had 
often astonished Maria Carolina, and contributed so 
much to Nelson's admiration. She had armed the 
Lazzaroni at Naples, she harangued and pacified the 
insurgents during their stay at Leghorn. 

On July 17 they started together for Vienna by 
way of Florence, Ancona, and Trieste. 

This journey, with its after stages of fresh pomp 
and pageant at Prague, at Dresden, and at Hamburg, 
was the most ill-advised step that Nelson and the Ham- 
iltons could have taken. Had they proceeded, accord- 
ing to their original plan, by sea, they would never 
have so irritated the motherland which, after long ab- 
sence, they were all revisiting. They were, indeed, 

Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 11 



324 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

quite ignorant of the prejudices which they would be 
called upon to combat. They deemed themselves chil- 
dren of the world by virtue of their association with 
great events, great persons, and a great career; but of 
our island-world they had grown curiously forgetful. 
Well, indeed, would it have been for them if they had 
remembered. They had lived in a hot-house; they 
were going into the fog. They had long been closely 
isolated in an inner, as well as an outer, world of their 
own. Every one, except the detestable Jacobins, had 
hymned their praises. Nelson's supreme renown had 
coloured every word and every action. For them the 
Neapolitan and Sicilian court stood for every court 
elsewhere. As it had been with the allies of Britain, 
so would it prove in Britain itself. They hugged their 
illusions. They were aware, of course, of whispers 
and comments and suspicions, but these they derided as 
the makeshifts of envious busybodies. 1 Even now 
Sir William gave out that he would shortly return, a 
more youthful Ambassador than ever, though he was 
even more worn out than Nelson. He and Emma 
were under the wing of the greatest hero on earth, who 
had only to sound the trumpet of his fame for the 
ramparts of official Jericho to fall. Emma herself was 

1 Lord Minto, writing from Vienna in March, 1800, and hoping 
that Nelson, who was worn to a shadow, would take Malta 
before returning home, says : " He does not seem at all con- 
scious of the sort of discredit he has fallen into, or the cause 
of it, for he writes still not wisely about Lady Hamilton and 
all that. But it is hard to condemn and use ill a hero, as he 
is in his own element, for being foolish about a woman who 
has art enough to make fools of many wiser than an Admiral. 
. . . Sir William sends home to Lord Grenville the Emperor 
of Russia's letter . . . [about the Maltese decoration for the 
Maltese service]. All this is against them, but they do not seem 
conscious." — Minto Life and Letters, vol. ii. p. 114. On p. 139 
Lady Minto writes, " His zeal for the public service seems 
entirely lost in his love and vanity, and they sit and flatter 
each other all day long." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 325 

in her most aggressive mood ; " Nature " certainly now 
outweighed " Sensibility " : she would be an Ishmaelite 
in face of icy English officialism discrediting each of 
her words and suspecting her every step. She was at 
length conscious of what, in its very concealment, was 
about to rivet her for ever to her lover. She would 
brave it out with nerves of iron and front of brass, 
for that which other women were incapable of endur- 
ing, her strength and courage could achieve. At 
Vienna the Empress loaded Maria Carolina's intimate 
with attentions; with the Esterhazys she was the ob- 
served of all observers. The bitter parting with her 
Queen but nerved her to greater and louder demon- 
strations. When hushed diplomacy sneered and snig- 
gered in pointedly remote corners, she raised her fine 
voice higher than ever to teach John Bull on the Con- 
tinent a lesson of robustness. At the mere hint that 
English influence was hoping to dissuade the Saxon 
Elector from receiving one who was the friend of a 
Queen and an Empress, she protested, with a laugh, 
that she would knock him down. In the Saxon cap- 
ital she braced herself to perform her Attitudes to per- 
fection; nobody should guess her real condition. She 
was ill at ease, and to mask it she was all retaliation 
and defiance. The finical got upon her nerves, and she 
on theirs. 

And, added to this, the tour itself combined the 
features of a royal progress and of a travelling show. 
At Vienna no attentions sufficed to prove the gratitude 
to Nelson, ay, and to Emma, of the Austrian house. 
Lady Minto herself, an old ally, but the wife of an 
Ambassador, who soon made up his mind never to 
" countenance " her, stood her sponsor at the drawing- 
room. The Bathyanis vied with the Esterhazys. 
Emma was constantly with Maria Carolina at Schon- 
brunn as the tearful hour of separation approached. 



£26 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

The Queen's parting letter, which begins " My dear 
Lady and tender friend," contains one notable passage : 
" May I soon have the consolation of seeing you again 
at Naples. I repeat what I have already said, that at 
all times and places, and under all circumstances, 
Emma, dear Emma, shall be my friend and sister, and 
this sentiment will remain unchanged. Receive my 
thanks once more for all you have done, and for the 
sincere friendship you have shown me. Let me hear 
from you; I will manage to let you hear from me." 
We shall see how Maria Carolina kept her word. It 
was said that Emma refused from her the offer of a 
large annuity. It has, of course, been denied that 
Emma was ever endued with the grace of refusal. 
But, quite apart from the natural pride of independ- 
ence, which characterised her from her girlhood to 
her grave, it is improbable that either Hamilton or 
Nelson would have permitted her to be the pensioner 
of a foreign court. 

Banquets and functions abounded, and they were not 
restricted to the court. Banker Arnstein — " the Gold- 
smid," as Lady Hamilton afterwards called him, " of 
Germany " — showered his splendours upon them. 
There were endless concerts, operas, entertainments, 
excursions, visits of ceremony and of pleasure, shoot- 
ing parties, water parties, and, it must be owned, 
parties of cards. One of their fellow-guests at St. 
Veit, a castle of the Esterhazys', has recorded his 
hostile impressions. He was Lord Fitzharris, natu- 
rally annoyed to see her with Nelson, and he may have 
lost his money in this encounter, and, possibly, his 
temper. 

" Sunday, grand fireworks. Monday (the jour de 
fete), a very good ball. And yesterday, the chasse. 
Nelson and the Hamiltons were there. We never sat 
down to supper or .dinner less than sixty or seventy 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 327 

persons, in a fine hall superbly illuminated; in short, 
the whole in a most princely style. Nelson's health 
was drunk with flourish of trumpets and firing of 
cannon. Lady Hamilton is, without exception, the 
most coarse, ill-mannered, disagreeable woman we met 
with. The Princess with great kindness had got a 
number of musicians, and the famous Haydn, who 
is in their service, to play, knowing Lady H. was fond 
of music. Instead of attending to them, she sat down 
to the faro table, played Nelson's cards for him, and 
won between £300 and £400. . . ." Haydn, it must 
be thought, was hardly a suitable accompaniment to 
cards. 

When, after Dresden with its fussy state and so- 
lemnity, they embarked on the Elbe for Hamburg, a 
stock passage in the diaries of a charming woman re- 
lates how that other Elliot, who was minister here 
(there was always an Elliot), was pained to the quick 
of his refinement by the noise of Emma and her party; 
how undignified Nelson's excitability appeared to all ; 
how Sir William, to prove his nimbleness, " hopped " 
on " his backbone," his legs, star and ribbon " all flying 
about in the air " ; how he and his friends withdrew 
shuddering at the shock of such breaches of taste; how 
relieved they were when bated breath was restored, 
and they were quit of these oddities and vulgarities; 
how, when the Nelsonians at last got on board, they 
looked like a troupe of strolling players; how Mrs. 
Cadogan immediately began to cook the Irish stew for 
which her daughter clamoured, while Emma's French 
maid bawled out coarse abuse about forgotten provi- 
sions. Most of this is probably true, but here again 
the point of view needs adjusting. .Fastidiousness is 
as movable, and sometimes as unbearable, a term as 
vulgarity, and no doubt the stiff Elliot would have been 
equally troubled at a violent sneeze, at any undue 



328 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

emphasis whatever, or infringement of etiquette. He 
had, it must be owned, good reason for being shocked 
at Emma's want of manners. But over-nicety has its 
own pitfalls also. There have been people who eat 
dry toast with a knife and fork. There are others 
who shiver at the stir of an unconventional footfall on 
the pile carpets of " culture." At any rate, till now 
nobody had ever reproached Sir William, a paragon of 
" taste," with violating the semblances of decorum. 
However we may regret Emma's unpolished " coarse- 
ness," at least this is true: blatant and self-assertive 
or not, she had certainly carried her own life and the 
lives of others in her hand. The daughter of the 
servants' hall had braved crisis without blenching. 
The son of the Foreign Office had of necessity per- 
formed its function of words, and had naturally sacri- 
ficed himself to the comme il faut. 

But if Emma, at bay, thus misbehaved, whither were 
her inmost thoughts wandering? 

She was thinking of how she could carry matters 
through, of what would become of her poor Sir Will- 
iam. She was thinking of Greville's reception, of 
Romney and Hayley and Flaxman, and her old friends. 
And of those new friends which Nelson had promised 
and described to her; of his pious and revered father, 
whose heart must be broken if ever he guessed the 
truth; of his favourite brother Maurice, whose poor, 
blind " wife," beloved and befriended by Nelson till 
she died, was no more his wedded partner than she was 
Nelson's; of his eldest brother — the pompous and 
bishopric-hunting " Reverend," a schemer and a gour- 
mand, who added the sentimental selfishness of Har- 
old Skimpole to the mock humility of Mr. Pecksniff; 
of that brother's cheery, bustling little wife; of their 
pet daughter Charlotte, whom the father always styled 
his " jewel " ; of the son already destined for the 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 329 

navy, and long afterwards designated by Nelson to 
marry Horatia ; of his two plain-speaking, plain-living 
sisters — sickly Mrs. Matcham with her brood of eight, 
and a husband always absent, ever changing plans and 
abodes; of Mrs. Bolton, more prosperous and more 
ambitious, with the two rather quarrelsome daughters 
for whom she coveted an entry into the world of " de- 
portment " and fashion; of Davison, the hero's fickle 
factotum, whom Nelson had already requested to find 
inexpensive lodgings in London. Beckford, the mag- 
nificent, had put his house in Grosvenor Square at the 
disposal of the Hamiltons. It was an offer of self- 
interest, for he was already manoeuvring to rehabilitate 
himself by bribing his embarrassed kinsman into pro- 
curing him a peerage, and the astute Greville suspected 
his generosity from the first. Indeed he wrote to Sir 
Joseph Banks that he had warned his uncle of " conse- 
quences," and that he " hoped to put him out of the 
line of ridicule," even if he could not " help him to the 
comfort and credit to which his character and good 
qualities entitle him." 

At Vienna Emma had found Nelson yet another fac- 
totum in the person of the interpreter Oliver, who dur- 
ing the next five years was so often to be the de- 
positary of their secret correspondence. 

From Dresden the Nelsonians repaired to Altona, 
from Altona to Hamburg. Their sojourn there was 
the most interesting of all, though it only lasted ten 
days, before the three embarked in the St. George 
packet-boat for London. There Emma, who had met 
the young poet Goethe, now met, and was appreciated 
by, the aged poet Klopstock. There Nelson met, and 
afterwards munificently befriended, the unfortunate 
General Dumouriez. There the Lutheran pastor hast- 
ened many miles to implore the signature of the great 
man for the flyleaf of his Bible. Hamburg was en- 



330 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

raptured over Emma's " Attitudes " and her person- 
ality, which called forth an interesting book by a well- 
known author. It was the more enraptured when the 
whole party witnessed a performance at the " German 
Theatre." Both Emma and Nelson exhibited their 
usual generosity towards the " poor devils " who ap- 
plied to them. Another and a different experience may 
be also mentioned as indicating how really artless they 
were. A wine merchant of the city hastened to beg 
the hero's acceptance of his offering — six bottles of 
the rarest hock, dating from the vintage of 1625. 
Emma was warmly grateful, and urged Nelson to re- 
ceive the present. Nelson took it with the thankful 
compliment that he would drink a bottle of it after 
each future victory, in " honour of the donor." This 
" respectable " wine merchant cannot have been so 
simple a benefactor as he appeared. Hock one hun- 
dred and eighty years old must have been quite un- 
drinkable, and only fit for a museum. 

And Nelson was wondering whether and how his 
wife would greet his arrival. When, on November 
6, they reached Yarmouth, after such a storm that 
only he could force the pilot to land, that wife was 
absent from his enthusiastic welcomers. Amid the 
music, the bunting, the deputations that seized his one 
hand, the offended Fanny was missing. The carriage 
was dragged by the cheerers to the Wrestlers' Inn, be- 
fore which the troops paraded. The whole party 
marched in state churchward to a service of thanks- 
giving; the town was illuminated, his departure was 
escorted by cavalry; but the wife, no longer of his 
bosom, stayed in London with the dear old rector, 
who had hurried up to greet him from Burnham- 
Thorpe. The two days before the capital huzza'd him, 
his route was one triumphal procession. His own 
Ipswich rivalled Yarmouth, and Colchester, Ips- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 331 

wich. But as the acclamations of the countryside rang 
in their ears, a single thought must have possessed the 
minds of Nelson and of Emma — the thought of Fanny. 
Nelson entered London in full uniform, with the three 
stars and the two golden medals on his breast. 1 It was 
Sunday — a .day which witnessed many of the crises in 
his career. They all drove together to Nerot's Hotel 
in King Street, where Greville had already called to 
welcome his uncle, ailing and anxious about his pen- 
sion. While Lady Hamilton disguised her tremor, 
Nelson was left alone with his proud father and the in- 
dignant wife, who had believed, and brooded over, 
every whisper against him — even the malicious slan- 
ders of the Jacobins. Joy could not be expected of 
her, but a word of pride in the achievements that had 
immortalised him, and won her the very title which she 
immoderately prized, she might surely have shown. 
Not a soft answer escaped her pinched lips. That 
night must have been one of hot entreaty on the one 
side, and cold recrimination on the other. Her mind 
was thoroughly poisoned against him. He at once 
presented himself at the Admiralty, just as Hamilton, 
under Greville's tutelage, at once repaired to my Lord 
Grenville in Cleveland Row. Together the three at- 
tended the Lord Mayor's banquet the following night, 
when the sword of honour was presented, after the citi- 
zens of London, like those of Yarmouth, had un- 
horsed the car of triumph and themselves drawn it 
along the streets lined with applauding crowds, to the 
Mansion House. There also Lady Nelson was absent. 
Whether business or ovation detained him, the spectre 
abode in its cupboard. For a time their open breach 

1 Medals were struck to commemorate his return. On one 
side is the medallion ; on the reverse Britannia crowning his 
vessel with laurels. The legend round runs : " Hail, virtuous 
hero ! Thy victories we acknowledge, and thy God." And 
underneath, "Return to England, November 5, 1800." 



832 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

was patched up, but nevertheless the distance between 
them widened. Nelson was to aggravate it by harping 
on Emma's virtues and graces till Fanny sickened at 
her very name. Nor could Emma's early and friendly 
approaches, in which Sir William joined, have been 
expected to bridge it over. 1 

Emma soon resumed her post as his amanuensis, his 
companion, his almoner, his vade mecum. Nelson 
again accompanied the Hamiltons on their speedy visit 
to Fonthill, whose bizarre master desired to compound 
for a peerage with Sir William. Prints exist of the 
postchaise with postilions, flambeaux in hand, driving 
the Nelsonians into the Gothic archway of that fan- 
tastic demesne. Nelson may well have thought, " Que 
diable allait-il faire dans cette galere! " Beckford had 
addressed his invitation to Emma in terms of ex- 
travagant flattery, to his " Madonna della Gloria." 
He singled out, too, her performance as Cleopatra for 
critical and special admiration. Yet so insincere was 
he, that some forty years afterwards he not only be- 
littled her beauty to Cyrus Redding, but claimed the 
entire brunt of service to Britain for Hamilton, while 
his ignorance of facts is shown by the egregious errors 
in his account. 

Nelson and Emma were always in evidence together. 
He ordered his wife to appear in public with himself 
and the Hamiltons at the theatre. Emma's sudden 
faintness, and Lady Nelson's withdrawal from their 

1 Cf. a remarkable letter from Lady Hamilton to Lady Nelson. 
It bears no date, but must refer to a time shortly after their 
return. — " I would have done myself the honour of calling on 
you and Lord Nelson this day, but I am not well nor in spirits. 
Sir William and myself feel the loss of our good friend, the 
good Lord Nelson. Permit me in the morning to have the 
pleasure of seeing you, and hoping, my dear Lady Nelson, the 
continuance of your friendship, which will be in Sir William 
and myself for ever lasting to you and your family." And she 
closes by Sir William's proffer of any service possible. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 333 

box with her, gave the wife the first inkling of a 
secret worse even than she had suspected. A violent 
scene is said to have occurred between the two women, 
and Lady Hamilton used to assert that Nelson wan- 
dered about all night in his misery, and presented him- 
self early next morning to implore the comfort and 
the companionship of his friends. Emma and Nelson 
continued all injured innocence. The circumstances 
of Horatia's birth in the January following were to be 
carefully veiled even from Horatia herself; nor were 
they ever proved till some fifty years afterwards, and 
even then generally disbelieved. Henceforward Nel- 
son and his wife were strangers; further efforts at 
reconciliation failed. By the March of 1801 he had 
provided for and repudiated her. " I have done," he 
was to write, " all in my power for you, and if I died, 
you will find I have done the same. Therefore, my 
only wish is to be left to myself, and wishing you every 
happiness, believe that I am your affectionate Nelson 
and Bronte." On this " letter of dismissal " she en- 
dorsed her " astonishment." That astonishment must 
surely have been strained. 

Without question, sympathy is her due. Without 
question she had been grievously wronged. But her 
bearing, both before she had reason to be convinced of 
the fact and afterwards, was such perhaps as to de- 
crease her deserts. She seems to have been more ag- 
grieved than heart-stricken. From this time forth she 
withdrew completely from every member of his fam- 
ily except Maurice and the good old father. At Bath, 
or in London, she sulked and hugged her grievance, 
her virtue, her money, and her rank. She proceeded 
— naturally — to babble of the woman who had injured 
her, and the husband of whom she had been despoiled. 
Nelson's brother and sisters, who accepted Emma, 
always entitled her " Tom Tit," nor would they con- 



334 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

cede a grain of true love to her disposition. That she 
was not the helpmeet for a hero was not her fault; 
it was her drawback and misfortune. She failed in 
the temperament that understands temperament, and 
the spirit that answers and applauds. Her piety never 
sought to win back the wanderer. She incensed him 
by desiring even now to rent Shelburne House. She 
caused him to feel " an outcast on shore." While she 
could have avenged her cause by suing for a divorce, 
she preferred to avenge herself on the culprits by their 
punishment in being barred from wedlock. After Nel- 
son's death she litigated with his successor. 

This was Emma's doing, and Nelson's. They were 
both pitiless, while the other was implacable. Emma 
could be far tenderer than gentle. She was never a 
gentlewoman, nor was over-delicacy her foible. Her 
" Sensibility " did not extend to her discarded rival, 
whose very wardrobe she could handle, at Nelson's 
bidding, and return. She rode rough-shod over poor 
Lady Nelson's discomfiture. ; ' Tom Tit," she told 
Mrs. William Nelson in the next February, " does not 
come to town. She offered to go down, but was re- 
fused. She only wanted to go to do mischief to all 
the great Jove's relations. 'Tis now shown, all her ill 
treatment and bad heart. Jove has found it out." 

It is a sorry, but hardly a sordid spectacle. Rather 
it is, in a sense, volcanic. 1 Here is no barter, no bal- 
ance of interests or convenience. It is a passionate 
convulsion, which uprooted the wife. I can but vary 
the apophthegm already quoted : " Apologies only try 
to explain what they cannot undo." 

1 On January 25 following Nelson wrote to her : " Where 
friendship is of so strong a cast as ours, it is no easy matter 
to shake it. Mine is as fixed as Mount Etna, and as warm in 
the inside as that mountain." — Morrison MS. 502. 



CHAPTER XI 

FROM PICCADILLY TO " PARADISE " MERTON 
I80I 

IT was not long before the Hamiltons were in- 
stalled in a new abode, No. 23 Piccadilly, one of 
the smaller houses fronting the Green Park. Sir 
William had been querulous over the loss of so many- 
treasures in the Colossus — among them the second ver- 
sion of Romney's " Bacchante," which has never to 
this day reappeared. Most of their .furniture had 
been rifled by French Jacobins. Emma promptly sold 
enough of her jewels to buy furniture for the new 
mansion, and these purchases were afterwards legally 
assigned to her by her husband. 

Among the first visitors to their new home were 
Hayley and Flaxman, whom Emma had eagerly in- 
vited. A letter from the latter to the former com- 
memorates an interesting little scene. As they entered, 
Nelson was just leaving the room. " Pray stop a lit- 
tle, my Lord," exclaimed Sir William; " I desire you 
to- shake hands with Mr. Flaxman, for he is a man as 
extraordinary, in his way, as you are in yours. Be- 
lieve me, he is the sculptor who ought to make your 
monument." "Is he?" replied Nelson, seizing his 
hand with alacrity ; " then I heartily wish he may." 
And eventually he did. 

This year was to link her and Nelson for ever. It 
was the year of Horatia's birth, of the Copenhagen 

335 



336 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

victory, of the preliminaries to the acquirement of 
Merton. 

" Sooner shall Britain's sons resign 
The empire of the sea; 
Than Henry shall renounce his faith 
And plighted vows to thee! 

And waves on waves shall cease to roll, 

And tides forget to flow, 
Ere thy true Henry's constant love 

Or ebb or change shall know." 1 

" I want but one true heart ; there can be but one 
love, although many real well-wishers," is his prose 
version in a hitherto unpublished letter. 

These were the refrains of all this year, and, indeed, 
of the little span allotted to Nelson before he was no 
more seen. 

Emma had an ordeal to pass through with a light 
step and a bright face. She had forfeited the com- 
fort of that sense of innocence which she had wel- 
comed ten years before. She awaited Nelson's child, 
and none but her mother and Nelson were to know it. 
She was to seem as if nothing chequered her dance of 
gaiety. Old friends flocked around her. Greville was 
a constant caller, curious about her, vigilant over his 
uncle. Her old supporter, Louis Dutens, was also in 
attendance. The stricken Romney, who pined for the 
sight of her, was now in the north, but Hayley and 
Flaxman we have seen in her company. There was 
Mrs. Denis, too, her singing friend at Naples, and the 
hardly used Mrs. Billington. And — for she was al- 
ways loyal to them — she delighted in beholding or 
hearing from her humble kindred again : the Connors, 
the Reynoldses, the Moores of Liverpool; and that 

1 Nelson's verses enclosed in his letter to Emma of February 
II, 1801 ; Nelson Letters, vol. i. p. 30. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 337 

daughter, long ago parted from her by Greville, Emma 
" Carew." And there were Bohemian refugees from 
Naples, the Banti among their number, who in after 
days were less than grateful to their impetuous 
patroness. New friends also pressed for her acquaint- 
ance. There was Nelson's " smart " relative Mrs. 
Walpole, a fribble of fashion in the Prince of Wales's 
set, Mrs. Udney and a Mrs. Nisbet, with their frivolous 
on-hangers. But, more acceptable than these, were 
Nelson's country sisters and sister-in-law, who loved 
her at first sight and never relinquished their friend- 
ship. With her soul of attitudes, she must have felt 
herself in a double mood — heroic under strain, and 
laughtersome at care. The artistic and musical world 
raved of her afresh; they might well now have cele- 
brated her both as " La Penserosa " and " L'Allegra." 
It was about this time that Walter Savage Landor 
sang of her — 

" Gone are the Sirens from their sunny shore, 
The Muses afterwards were heard no more, 
But of the Graces there remains but one — 
Gods name her Emma, mortals, Hamilton." 

And perhaps too he remembered her when he wrote 
of Dido— 

" Ill-starred Elisa, hence arose 
Thy faithless joys, thy steadfast woes." 

Of old she had been praised for her tarantella. 
Nothing more beautiful could be imagined, was Lady 
Malmesbury's verdict more than five years earlier. 
How was Emma now to trip it through heavy trial, 
and hide an aching heart with smiles and songs ? Mis- 
guided love lent her strength, and its misguidance 
found out the way. She was ready to sacrifice every- 
thing, and to forsake all for one whose absence must 
mean her own and her country's glory. Sir William, 



338 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

out of the saddle, was practically in hospital; Nelson, 
practically in hospital, longed for the saddle once more. 

The Northern Coalition threatened a now isolated 
Britain with a stroke more formidable than the South- 
ern had done formerly. Napoleon was exultant. Sir 
William, who really worshipped Nelson, and for whom 
Emma cared to the last, found himself none the less 
rather thankful that Nelson was off in search of fresh 
triumphs, and, with him, the disturbing clamour of 
hero-worship. He longed for his little fishing expedi- 
tions and picture hunts; he was anxious about his pen- 
sion, 1 his late wife's property as well as the tatters of 
his own. So, committing with a sigh the racket of 
life to his demonstrative Emma, he resigned himself to 
the worldly wisdom of his calculating and still bachelor 
nephew, Greville, whose ruling motive had always been 
interest. Zeal was not in Greville's nature, but some- 
thing like it coloured his coldness whenever chattels 
were concerned. He was studiously respectful to Nel- 
son. He was amiably attentive to his " aunt." All 
the same, he was already tincturing Hamilton's mind 
with an alien cynicism ; he and Sir William were gradu- 
ally forming a little northern coalition of their own. 
While he exerted himself in assiduously forwarding 
Sir William's claim on the generosity of the Govern- 
ment, he took good care to discourage any expenditure 
that might anticipate a chance so doubtful. 

Nelson was in a fever of impatience and suspense, 
for Emma, for his country — his two obsessions — for 
all but himself. He was ever a creaking door, but his 
health, though in his eagerness for action he protested 
it restored, was now beyond measure miserable. His 
eye grew inflamed, his heart constantly palpitated, his 
cough seemed the premonitor of consumption. And 

1 He wanted a real, not a nominal, £2000 a year from Lord 
Grenville, and £8000 compensation. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 339 

vexations, public as well as private, troubled him. 
The authorities, whether in the guise of Cato, or of 
Paul Pry, or of Tartuffe, hampered his every step, 
while the curs of office snapped about his heels. Added 
to this, he had been forced into a lawsuit — an 
" amicable squabble " he terms it — with his admired 
and admiring Lord St. Vincent, who laid claim to the 
prize-money of victories won during his absence. St. 
Vincent had retired into civil service, and was now the 
mainspring of the Admiralty, in which the new Sir 
Thomas Troubridge, who owed his rise entirely to 
Nelson, had also found the snuggest of berths. Both 
the men who had taught Nelson, and the men that he 
had taught, were setting up as his critics and often his 
spies. His coming expedition was to be a thirteenth 
labour of Hercules. Yet the tribe of cavillers could 
only insinuate (for aloud they dared not speak) of his 
dalliance with Omphale. At least they might have re- 
membered that Nelson had saved them and his coun- 
try, and that if his impulsiveness gave himself away to 
their self-satisfied ingratitude, he was at this moment 
called to give himself up on the altar of duty. On 
Hardy, and Louis, and the two Parkers, and Berry and 
Carrol, he could still count; like all chivalrous leaders, 
he had his round table, and this was his pride and 
consolation. But it was also his solace to remain mag- 
nanimous, and even now he sent the most generous 
congratulations on his adversary's birthday, which 
were warmly and honourably reciprocated. He had 
hoped for supreme command, but Sir Hyde Parker 
was preferred : Nelson was only Vice-Admiral of the 
Blue. Scarcely had he been in London a fortnight 
when, with his brother William, he repaired to his 
flagship at Portsmouth, to superintend the equipment 
of the fleet. He had already taken his seat in the 
House of Lords, though he had still to complain that 



340 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

his honours had not yet been gazetted. He had ac- 
companied the Hamiltons on their Wiltshire excursion. 
He had nominated Hardy his captain. On January 13 
he quitted Emma, it might be for the last time, and 
with Emma he left both his new hopes and old ties. 
His wife, who had beaten her retreat to Brighton, he 
had now irrevocably renounced ; his mind was " as 
fixed as fate," and of none does the adage " Vestigia 
nulla retrorsum " hold good more than of Nelson ; it 
was not long before he wrote significantly, alluding 
to her West Indian extraction, " Buonaparte's wife is 
of Martinique." Lady Nelson had made no advance, 
not the slightest attempt to provide him for the voyage. 
" Anxiety for friends left," he informed his " wife be- 
fore heaven " the day after he set out, " and various 
workings of my imagination, gave me one of those 
severe pains of the heart that all the windows were 
obliged to be put down, the carriage stopped, and the 
perspiration was so strong that I never was wetter, and 
yet dead with cold." And some days afterwards: 
" Keep up your spirits, all will end well. The dearest 
of friends must part, and we only part, I trust, to meet 
again." 

By mid-January he had hoisted his flag on the San 
Josef. In March he was commanding the St. George, 
the vessel which, he wrote with exaltation, " will 
stamp an additional ray of glory on England's fame, 
if Nelson survives; and that Almighty Providence, 
who has hitherto protected me in all dangers, and cov- 
ered my head in the day of battle, will still, if it be 
His pleasure, support and assist me." 

Emma had earned her lover's fresh admiration by 
steeling herself to undergo a test that would have 
prostrated even those who would most have recoiled 
from it. She and Nelson had resolved to hide from 
Sir William what was shortly to happen. But Emma 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 341 

would take no refuge in absence from home ; sne would 
stand firm and face guilt and danger under her own 
roof-tree. Though this trial might cost her life, she 
would be up and doing directly it was over. If for a 
few days she kept to her room with one of those at- 
tacks which had been habitual at Naples, who but her 
mother and herself need be the worse or the wiser? 
The sudden blow of their parting under such cir- 
cumstances had been exceptionally severe. It recalls 
the famous line of Fenelon: 

" Calypso ne pouvait se consoler du depart d'Ulysse." 

In their mutual anxiety they framed a plan of cor- 
respondence, in which Emma and Nelson were to 
masquerade as the befrienders of a Mr. Thomson, one 
of his officers, distracted with anxiety about the im- 
pending confinement of his wife, who was bidden to en- 
trust herself and the child to the loving guardianship 
and " kind heart " of Lady Hamilton. These secret 
letters were all addressed to " Mrs. Thomson," while 
Nelson's ordinary letters were addressed as usual to 
Lady Hamilton. Without some such dissimulation 
they could have very rarely corresponded, for their 
communications were constantly opened ; and, even so, 
Hamilton's curiosity must have been often piqued by 
his wife's receipt of so many communications in Nel- 
son's hand to this unknown friend. But they did man- 
age to exchange fragments even more intimate than 
the interpolations in the body of these extraordinary 
" Thomson " letters. Not all these, nor all of such as 
he possessed, were given by Pettigrew in his convinc- 
ing proof of Horatia's real origin. The Morrison 
Collection presents many of Pettigrew's documents in 
their entirety, and adds others confirming them; so 
also do the less ample Nelson Letters, and others from 
private sources. 



342 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Emma's agitated feelings must be guessed from Nel- 
son's answers, for, as he assured her afterwards, he 
deliberately burned all her own " kind, dear letters," 
read and fingered over and over again; any day his 
life might be laid down, and he feared lest they might 
pass into hostile hands. From one of hers, however, 
written at Merton a year later in commemoration of 
the victory he was now about to win, something of 
their tenor may be gathered : — 

" Our dear glorious friend, immortal and great Nel- 
son, what shall I say to you on this day? My heart 
and feeling are so overpowered that I cannot give vent 
to my full soul to tell you, as an Englishwoman grate- 
full to her country's saviour, what I feel towards you. 
And as a much loved friend that has the happiness of 
being beloved, esteemed, and admired by the good and 
virtuos Nelson, what must be my pride, my glory, to 
say this day have I the happiness of being with him, 
one of his select, and how grate full to God Almighty 
do I feel in having preserved you through such glorious 
dangers that never man before got through them with 
such Honner and Success. Nelson, I want Eloquence 
to tell you what I feil, to avow the sentiments of re- 
spect and adoration with which you have inspired me. 
Admiration and delight you must ever raise in all who 
behold you, looking on you only as the guardian of 
England. But how far short are those sensations to 
what I as a much loved friend feil ! And I confess to 
you the predominant sentiments of my heart will ever 
be, till it ceases to beat, the most unfeigned anxiety for 
your happiness, and the sincerest and most disinter- 
ested determination to promote your felicity even at 
the hasard of my life. Excuse this scrawl, my dear- 
est friend, but next to talking with you is writing to 
you. I wish this day I . . . could be near for your 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 343 

sake. . . . God bless you, my ever dear Nelson. Long 
may you live to be the admiration of Europe, the de- 
light of your country, and the idol of your constant, at- 
tached Emma." 

She is " still the same Emma." A rhapsody of 
" None but the brave deserve the fair " rings in every 
line. It is melodrama, but genuine melodrama; and 
melodrama of the heart, Nelson loved. It was what 
all along he had missed in his wife, who had lived aloof 
from his career; whereas Emma and he had lived 
through its thrilling scenes together. It was what he 
himself felt, and that to which Emma answered with 
every pulse. At no time was she in the least awe 
of her hero, whose strong will and gentle heart marked 
him off from those she had best known. With Nel- 
son she was always perfectly natural, using none but 
her own voice and gestures. Had she been really the 
conventional " serpent of old Nile " (and it is odd what 
an historical affinity the " Nile " has had to " ser- 
pents "), that part would thoroughly have clashed with 
her unchanging outspokenness of tone. Nelson was 
always emphatic and picturesque ; he possessed to an 
eminent degree, both in warfare and otherwise, the in- 
tuition of temperament for temperament. Admitting 
idealisation, I cannot think that he was absolutely mis- 
taken in Emma's. 

" I shall write to Troubridge this day " is Nelson's 
communication to Lady Hamilton, in the earliest let- 
ter extant of the " Thomson " series, penned on the 
passage to Torbay only four days before the child was 
born, " to send me your letter, which I look for as 
constantly and with more anxiety than my dinner. 
Let her [Lady Nelson] go to Briton, or where she 
•pleases, I care not; she is a great fool, and, thank 
God! you are not the least bit like her. I delivered 



344 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

poor Mrs. Thomson's note; her friend is truly thank- 
ful for her kindness and your goodness. Who does 
not admire your benevolent heart? Poor man, he is 
very anxious, and begs you will, if she is not able, write 
a line just to comfort him. He appears to feel very 
much her situation. He is so agitated, and will be so 
for 2 or 3 days, that he says he cannot write, and that 
I must send his kind love and affectionate regards. 
... I hate Plymouth." Yet Plymouth had just con- 
ferred on him the freedom of the city. Nelson's whole 
soul was with Emma; in the suspense of fatherhood 
he shrank into himself and recoiled from publicity. 
He had no compunctions about Lady Nelson. On the 
very evening of the Plymouth honours he had 
despatched a remarkable epistle, published by its owner 
last year. Nelson was never rich, and his allowance 
of £2000 a year to his wife had been handsome in the 
extreme. Nelson had already heard with incredulity 
" nonsensical reports " that Lady Nelson was instruct- 
ing the agent to buy a " fine house for him." From 
his wife, he now acquaints Emma, he had received but 
half one side of a slip of paper to tell him of her cold 
and her withdrawal from London. He alludes to a 
rumour that she was about to take Shelburne House. 
He treats it with scornful ridicule. He had just met 
Troubridge's sister who lived at Exeter, " pitted with 
small-pox and deafer far than Sir Thomas." Emma 
need never be jealous. " Pray tell Mrs. Thomson her 
kind friend is very uneasy about her, and prays most 
fervently for her safety — and he says he can only 
depend on your goodness. . . . May the Heavens bless 
and preserve my dearest friend and give her every com- 
fort this world can afford, is the sincerest prayer of 
your faithful and affectionate Nelson and Bronte." 

Nelson is all prayer and piety for Emma. It is one 
of the most singular features of his erratic greatness 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 345 

that he lays her, the coming child, and himself as hum- 
ble and acceptable offerings before God's throne. His 
sincerity resembles in another plane that of Carlyle, 
who, in some of his epistles to his mother, translated 
his own earnest free-thought into terms of the Scotch 
Covenanter. But at the same time the reader is often 
tempted to echo what the same Carlyle objected to in 
French eighteenth-century sentimentalism : " So much 
talk about Virtue. In the devil and his grandmother's 
name, be Virtuous then ! " 

Every night Nelson withdrew after the day's 
fatigues, and amid incessant occupations, to hint (when 
he feared to pour forth) his torture of anxiety and 
passionate fulness of unbounded affection. He bade 
her be of good cheer. He assured " Mr. Thomson " 
of her " innate worth and affectionate disposition." 
But during these weary days of waiting, a full month 
before Oliver had been chosen to convey his famous 
and self-convicting letter, he must have disclosed his 
inmost soul to its idol through him, or perhaps through 
Davison, who at this very time had travelled over two 
hundred miles to pay him a visit. Another letter of 
far less reserve, and one never, so far as I know, 
cited, exists in relation to the coming birth of the 
second child — the little Emma who died so soon — in 
the earlier months of 1804. It is so remarkable, and 
probably so identical with others which he must have 
written on this earlier occasion, that I subjoin a por- 
tion of it here, venturing to fill in some of the ex- 
cisions : — 

" My dearest Beloved, — . . . To say that I think 
of you by day, night, and all day, and all night, but 
too faintly expresses my feelings of love and affection 
towards you. [Mine is indeed an] unbounded af- 
fection. Our dear, excellent, good [Mrs. Cadogan] 



346 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

is the only one who knows anything of the matter; and 
she has promised me when you [are well] again to 
take every possible care of you, as a proof of her 
never-failing regard to your own dear Nelson. Be- 
lieve me that I am incapable of wronging you in 
thought, word, or deed. No; not all the wealth of 
Peru could buy me for one moment; it is all yours 
and reserved wholly for you. And . . . certainly 
. . . from the first moment of our happy, dear, en- 
chanting, blessed meeting. . . . The call of our coun- 
try is a duty which you would deservedly, in the cool 
moments of reflection, reprobate, was I to abandon : 
and I should feel so disgraced by seeing you ashamed 
of me ! No longer saying, ' This is the man who has 
saved his country ! This is he, who is the first to go 
forth to fight our battles, and the last to return ! ' 
. . . 'Ah!' they will think, 'What a man! What 
sacrifices has he not made to secure our homes and 
property; even the society and happy union with the 
finest and most accomplished woman in the world.' 
As you love, how must you feel ! My heart is with 
you, cherish it. I shall, my best beloved, return — if it 
pleases God — a victor; and it shall be my study to 
transmit an unsullied name. There is no desire of 
wealth, no ambition that could keep me from all my 
soul holds dear. No ; it is to save my country, my wife 
in the eye of God. . . . Only think of our happy meet- 
ing. Ever, for ever I am your's, only your's, even 
beyond this world. . . . For ever, for ever, your own 
Nelson." x 

Emma certainly inspired the Nelson who delivered 
England; and for all time this surely ought to out- 
weigh the carping diatribes of half-moralists who nar- 
row the whole of virtue to a part. It cannot be too 
much emphasised that Nelson loved her and not merely 

1 Nelson Letters, vol. i. p. 175, "August 26 [1803]." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 347 

her enhancements. " Thank God," he wrote at the be- 
ginning of February, " you want not the society of 
princes or dukes. If you happened to fall down and 
break your nose or knock out your eyes, you might go 
to the devil for what they care, but it is your good 
heart that attaches to you, your faithful and affec- 
tionate Nelson." * 

About January 29, in a week of storm, Horatia was 
born. Within the week Emma, unattended, had 
taken the baby by night in a hackney coach to the 
nurse, Mrs. Gibson, of Little Titchfield Street. Within 
a fortnight, " thinner . . . but handsomer than ever," 
she could play hostess at her husband's table; in three 
weeks she was importuned by, though she refused to 
entertain, royalty. From first to last, she wrote daily 
to Nelson, and she was active in concealment. Her 
force of will and endurance at this juncture pass com- 
prehension. She behaved as if nothing had happened, 
though she must seriously have deranged her health. 

" I believe," wrote the transported father so soon 
as her glad tidings reached him, " I believe dear Mrs. 
Thomson's friend will go mad with joy. He cries, 
prays, and performs all tricks, yet dares not show all 
or any of his feelings, but he has only me to consult 
with. He swears he will drink your health this day 
in a bumper, and damn me if I don't join him in spite 
of all the doctors in Europe, for none regard you with 
truer affection than myself. You are a dear good 
creature, and your kindness and attention to poor Mrs. 
T. stamps you higher than ever in my mind. I can- 
not write, I am so agitated by this young man at my 
elbow. I believe he is foolish, he does nothing but 
rave about you and her. I own I participate in his joy 
and cannot write anything." 

It is noteworthy that the eccentric demeanour of 
1 Letter of February I, 1801. 



348 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

" dear Mrs. Thomson's friend " accords with what was 
evidently a trait in the Nelson family; for Sir Will- 
iam, describing to Nelson the joy of his brother " the 
reverend doctor," on hearing the first intelligence of 
Copenhagen while dining with him in Piccadilly, says : 
" Your brother was more extraordinary than ever. He 
would get up suddenly and cut a caper; rubbing his 
hands every time that the thought of your fresh 
laurels came into his head." 

The day after the " young man " at Nelson's el- 
bow had been thus disporting himself, Nelson again 
addressed Lady Hamilton. He had cut out two lines 
from her letter with which, he declares, he will never 
part. He had exceeded his promise of the day before, 
and had drained two bumpers to the health of Mrs. 
Thomson and her child in the company of Troubridge, 
Hardy, Parker, and his brother, till the latter said he 
would " hurt " himself : " that friend of our dear Mrs. 
T. is a good soul and full of feeling," he wrote; "he 
wishes much to see her and her little one. If possible 
I will get him leave for two or three days when I go 
to Portsmouth, and you will see his gratitude to you." 
Next morning he communicates with her indirectly as 
" Mrs. Thomson." Her " good and dear friend does 
not think it proper at present to write with his own 
hand," but he " hopes the day may not be far distant 
when he may be united for ever to the object of his 
wishes, his only, only love. He swears before heaven 
that he will marry her as soon as possible, which he 
fervently prays may be soon. Nelson is charged " to 
say how dear you are to him, and that you must [at] 
every opportunity kiss and bless for him his dear little 
girl, which he wishes to be called Emma, out of grati- 
tude to our dear, good Lady Hamilton, but in either 
[case?] its [name?], [whether?] from Lord N., he 
says, or Lady H., he leaves to your judgment and 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 349 

choice." He has " given poor Thomson a hundred 
pounds this morning for which he will give Lady H. 
an order on his agents " ; and he begs her to " dis- 
tribute it amongst those who have been useful to you on 
the late occasion; and your friend, my dear Mrs. 
Thomson," he adds, " may be sure of my care of him 
and his interest, which I consider as dearly as my 
own. . . ." 

But perhaps the least guarded of this long series is 
a fragment to be found in the old volume of Nelson 
Letters, though Pettigrew's transcripts and the Morri- 
son original do not comprise it. It bears date Febru- 
ary 16. " I sit down, my dear Mrs. T.," it runs, " by 
desire of poor Thomson, to write you a line : not to 
assure you of his eternal love and affection for you 
and his dear child, but only to say that he is well and 
as happy as he can be, separated from all which he 
holds dear in this world. He has no thoughts sep- 
arated from your love and your interest. They are 
united with his; one fate, one destiny, he assures me, 
awaits you both. What can I say more? Only to 
kiss his child for him : and love him as truly, sincerely, 
and faithfully as he does you; which is from the bot- 
tom of his soul. He desires that you will more and 
more attach yourself to dear Lady Hamilton." Only 
a week earlier he had addressed to her that stirring 
passage which told her that it was she who urged him 
forth to glory, that he had been the whole world 
round, and had never yet seen " her equal, or even one 
who could be put in comparison." 

Every night he and his " band of brothers " con- 
tinue to raise the glass to the toast of Emma. Letter 
succeeds to letter, affection to impatience, and impa- 
tience to ecstasy. He makes a new will, bequeathing 
her, besides other jewelled presentations, the portrait 
which Maria Carolina had given him of herself at part- 



350 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

ing; charging, too, in her favour the rental of Bronte, 
but on this occasion only in the case of the failure of its 
male heirs; creating, above all, a trust for the child, of 
whom " Emma Hamilton alone knows the parents," of 
whom too she is besought to act as guardian, and by 
her honour and integrity to " shield it from want and 
disgrace." He would " steal white bread rather than 
that the child should want." He and she are to be 
and be known as godparents of an infant in whom they 
take a " very particular interest," and he especially re- 
quests that it may be brought up as " the child of her 
dear friend Nelson and Bronte." He discusses the 
name ; Emma had evidently begged that it might be his, 
nor hers as originally proposed. Let it be christened 
" Horatia " and be registered, anagramatically, as 
" daughter of Johem and Morata Etnorb." 1 As for 
the date of baptism, he leaves it entirely to his Emma's 
discretion, but, on the whole, after some hesitation 
he favours its postponement, since a clergyman might 
ask inconvenient questions. He rejoices to hear that 
the baby is handsome, for then it must be like his dear 
" Lady Hamilton," between whom and Mrs. Thomson 
there is said to be a striking resemblance. After all, 
there is no immediate hurry to settle these trifles. He 
must soon rejoin her, if only for a day. Till March 
he would still be kept off the English coasts, near and 
yet far from Emma; he chafes at a division uncaused 
by duty or by distance. He will run up so soon as 
" Mr. Thomson " can get leave, and propitiate that 
watch-dragon, Troubridge. 

Emma's correspondence with Mrs. William Nelson 
from the latter end of February shows how and when 
he appeared in London. But before he hastened to 
her side, a curious and undetailed episode, mixing a 
drop of bitter disquiet with his draught of rapture, will 
l i. e. Horatio and Emma Bronte. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 351 

be followed with interest. It exhibits Emma's con- 
stancy and fortitude under a temptation which sur- 
prised her, and anguished her fretting lover. Her 
firmness in overcoming it and, with it, his jealousy, 
riveted him, if possible, more closely than ever. It 
pervades every one of Nelson's letters, from the Febru- 
ary of this year to the end of March, and many long 
afterwards. 

While, strained and nervous beyond measure, she 
now awaited Horatia's birth, she was annoyed and 
alarmed, though probably flattered also, by a message 
from the Prince of Wales — eager to bridge over the 
dull interval till Parliament might pronounce his father 
imbecile and himself Regent. He politely commanded 
Sir William to invite him to dinner on a Sunday even- 
ing. It was his desire to hear Lady Hamilton sing, 
together with La Banti, who was now in London, 
and whose son Nelson actually placed in the navy 
together with Emma's cousin, Charles Connor. Sir 
William was anxious to obtain from the Government 
not only his full pension, but also a liberal reward 
for the heavy losses which Jacobinism had inflicted on 
his property. Moreover, he hoped, though in vain, for 
a new appointment — the governorship of Malta. The 
Prince's aid was all-important for the ex- Ambassador. 
He had been more than civil during the short visit of 
1 79 1, when he had commissioned portraits of the fair 
Ambassadress ; and, though an ill-natured world might 
put the worst construction on his presence in Picca- 
dilly, Sir William trusted to Emma's prudence and his 
own interest. 1 The fiery Nelson, however, infuriated, 

1 Cf. his letter to Nelson of Feb. n, Nelson Letters, vol. ii. 
p. 200. "... She has got one of her terrible sick headaches. 
Among other things that vex her is — that we have been drawn 
in to be under the absolute necessity of giving a dinner to the 
P. of Wales on Sunday next. He asked it himself, having 
expressed a strong desire of hearing Banti's and Emma's voices 



352 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

even demented, at the bare suspicion, ascribed the 
whole manoeuvre to the bad offices and influence of 
Lady Abercorn, Mrs. Walpole, and a " Mrs. Nisbet," 
who had been heard publicly to assert that Lady Ham- 
ilton had " hit " the Prince's " fancy." Sir William, 
however, was now once more under Greville's thumb, 
and it is likely that the mild Mephistopheles of King's 
Mews had his finger in this pie. At a moment so awk- 
ward, Emma certainly disbelieved that her husband 
ever did more than countenance the affair. She was 
proud of her talent, and pleased at the sensation it 
created in the Duke of Queensberry's circle. But the 
attentions of such a charmer as the First Gentleman in 
Europe were doubtless of design; and she was on her 
guard at the outset, though in after years she cultivated 
the new friendship of the Prince, together with the 
long-standing one of his admiring brothers. Her child 
had half-hallowed in her eyes the sin that sacrifice had 
endeared, and she resented the buzz of the scandal- 
mongers. She welcomed, indeed invited, Nelson's 
plan of bringing up his sister-in-law to the rescue. 

Sir William's intention that the royal visit should be 
en famille, and its projected secrecy, worked up Nel- 
son's feelings to their highest pitch : better by far, if it 
had to be, a big reception. In the end, however, no 
party took place, still less was there any eclat. The 
Prince was baffled, despite Sir William. Emma 

together. I am well aware of the dangers, etc. ... As this 
dinner must be, or he would be offended, I shall keep strictly 
to the musical part, invite only Banti, her husband, and Taylor; 
and as I wish to show a civility to Davison, I have sent him an 
invitation. In short, we will get rid of it as well as we can, 
and guard against its producing more meetings of the same 
sort. Emma would really have gone any lengths to have avoided 
Sunday's dinner. But / thought it would not be prudent to 
break with the P. of Wales, etc. ... I have been thus explicit 
as I know well your Lordship's way of thinking, and your very 
kind attachment to us and to everything that concerns us." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 353 

showed that she could renounce vanity for love, and 
that she dared to rebuff importunity in high places. 
Nelson's mountain brought forth a mouse, nor did he 
ever cease to commemorate his appreciation of Emma's 
firmness — " firm as a rock," he said of his trust in her 
afterwards. 

Nelson was really on the rack. His distracted let- 
ters of more than a fortnight — until his apprehensions 
of the main danger had been calmed — present a strik- 
ing self -revelation, and are doubly interesting because 
Emma's own letters to Mrs. William Nelson supple- 
ment them. It is only through his own words that we 
can realise his feelings. His overwrought nature mag- 
nified every shadow, and overbore his strong common 
sense. He was morbid, and conjured up suspicions 
and anticipations alike unworthy of him. Through- 
out his life his geese were too often swans, and his 
betes noires, even oftener, demons. His Jeremiads 
sound a monotone. He tears his passion to tatters in 
a crescendo of self-torture. The man whose bracing 
and unblenching nerves were iron in action, who was 
shortly to urge " these are not times for nervous sys- 
tems," grew unstrung and abased when his immense 
love lost its foothold for a moment. At first he could 
scarcely believe that " Sir William should have a wish 
for the Prince of Wales to come under your roof " ; 
no good could come from it, but every harm. " You 
are too beautiful not to have enemies, and even one 
visit will stamp you. . . . We know that he is without 
one spark of honour in these respects and would leave 
you to bewail your folly. But, my dear friend, I know 
you too well not to be convinced you cannot be se- 
duced by any prince in Europe. You are, in my 
opinion, the pattern of perfection." " Sir William 
should say to the Prince that, situated as you are, it 
would be highly improper for you to admit H.R.H. 



354 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

That the Prince should wish it, I am not surprised at. 
. . . Sir William should speak out, and if the Prince 
is a man of honour, he will quit the pursuit of you. 
. . . The thought so agitates me that I cannot write. 
I had wrote a few lines last night but I am in tears, I 
cannot bear it." " I own I sometimes fear that you 
will not be so true to me as I am to you, yet I cannot, 
will not believe, you can be false. No ! I judge you 
by myself. I hope to be dead before that should hap- 
pen, but it will not. Forgive me, Emma, oh, forgive 
your own dear, disinterested Nelson. Tell Davison 
how sensible I am of his goodness. He knows my at- 
tachment to you. . . . May God send . . . happiness ! 
I have a letter from Sir William; he speaks of the 
Regency as certain; and then probably he thinks 
you will sell better — horrid thought ! " ; ' Your dear 
friend, my dear and truly beloved Mr. T., is almost 
distracted; he wishes there was peace, or if your uncle 
would die, he would instantly then come and marry 
you, for he doats on nothing but you and his child. 
. . . He has implicit faith in your fidelity, even in con- 
versation with those he dislikes, and that you will be 
faithful in greater things he has no doubt." When 
Emma scolded, and sought to pique him by a piece of 
jesting jealousy into reason, he reassured both her 1 
and himself for a few days; but on February n, ad- 
dressing her as " My dear Lady," he tells her that " it 
is very easy to find a stick to beat your Dog," and to 
find a pretext for blaming one " who will never for- 
get you, but to the last moment of his existence, pray 
to God to give you happiness and to remove from this 
ungrateful world your old friend." Three days later, 

1 " Suppose I did say that the West Country women wore 
black stockings, what is it more than if you was to say what 
puppies all the present young men are? You cannot help your 
eyes, and God knows I cannot see much." Morrison MS. 514. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 355 

however, he again changes his note ; he trusts his " dear 
Lady " to " do him full justice, and to make her dear 
mind at ease for ever, for ever and ever." But on 
February 17 he burst out afresh: "I am so agitated 
that I can write nothing. I knew it would be so, and 
you can't help it. Do not sit long at table. Good 
God ! He will be next you, and telling you soft things. 
If he does, tell it out at table, and turn him out of the 
house. . . . Oh, God ! that I was dead ! But I do not, 
my dearest Emma, blame you, nor do I fear your con- 
stancy. ... I am gone almost mad, but you cannot 
help it. It will be in all the newspapers with hints. 
... I could not write another line if I was to be made 
King. If I was in town, nothing should make me dine 
with you that damned day, but, my dear Emma, I do 
not blame you, only remember your poor miserable 
friend. That you must be singing and appear gay! 
... I have read . . . your resolution never to go 
where the fellow is, but you must have him at home. 
Oh, God! but you cannot, I suppose, help it, and you 
cannot turn him out of your own house. ... I see 
your determination to be on your guard, and as fixed as 
fate. ... I am more dead than alive ... to the last 
breath your's. If you cannot get rid of this, I hope 
you will tell Sir William never to bring the fellow 
again." " 'Tis not that I believe you will do any- 
thing that injures me, but I cannot help saying a few 
words on that fellow's dining with you, for you do 
not believe it to be out of love for Sir William. . . . 
You have been taken in. You that are such a woman 
of good sense, put so often on your guard by myself 
[against] Mrs. Udney, Mrs. Spilsbury, Mrs. Dent, 
and Mrs. Nisbet. ... I knew that he would visit you, 
and you could not help coming downstairs when the 
Prince was there. . . . But his words are so charming 
that, I am told, no person can withstand them. If I 

Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 12 



356 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

had been worth ten millions I would have betted 
every farthing that you would not have gone into the 
house knowing that he was there, and if you did, 
which I would not have believed, that you would have 
sent him a proper message by Sir William, and sent 
him to hell. And knowing your determined courage 
when you had got down, I would have laid my head 
upon the block with the axe uplifted, and said ' strike,' 
if Emma does not say to Sir William before the fel- 
low, ' my character cannot, shall not suffer by per- 
mitting him to visit.' . . . Hush, hush, my poor heart, 
keep in my breast, be calm, Emma is true. . . . But 
no one, not even Emma, could resist the serpent's flat- 
tering tongue. . . . What will they all say and think, 
that Emma is like other women, when I would have 
killed anybody who had said so. . . . Forgive me. I 
know I am almost distracted, but I have still sense 
enough left to burn every word of yours. . . . All 
your pictures are before me. What will Mrs. Denis 
say, and what will she sing — Be Calm, be Gentle, the 
Wind has Changed? Do you go to the opera to- 
night? They say he sings well. I have eat nothing 
but a little rice and drank water. But forgive me. I 
know my Emma, and don't forget that you had once 
a Nelson, a friend, a dear friend, but alas! he has his 
misfortunes. He has lost the best, his only friend, his 
only love. Don't forget him, poor fellow ! He is 
honest. Oh ! I could thunder and strike dead with 
my lightning. I dreamt it last night, my Emma. I 
am calmer. . . . Tears have relieved me; you never 
will again receive the villain to rob me. . . . May the 
heavens bless you! I am better. Only tell me you 
forgive me; don't scold me, indeed I am not worth it, 
and am to my last breath your's, and if not your's, no 
one's in the world. . . . You cannot now help the vil- 
lain's dining with you. Get rid of it as well as you 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON '357 

can. Do not let him come downstairs with you or 

hand you up. // you do, tell me, and then !" 

" Forgive my letter wrote and sent last night, perhaps 
my head was a little affected. No wonder, it was 
such an unexpected, such a knock-down blow; such a 
death. But I will not go on, for I shall get out of my 
senses again. Will you sing for the fellow The 
Prince, unable to conceal his Pain, etc. ? No, you will 
not." 

And here follows, like a lull in the storm, his joy 
at hearing from Emma herself that Sir William, " who 
asks all parties to dinner," was not to have his way; 
she had resolved to evade the Prince. He cursed the 
would-be intruder. Even now he implored her not 
to risk being at home that next Sunday evening, but 
to dine with Mrs. Denis. If the Prince still insisted 
on coming, Emma must be away. But till he had cer- 
tainty he would continue to starve himself. He 
thanked her " ten thousand times." She was never 
to say that her letters bored him; they were "the 
only real comfort of his life." If ever he proved false 
to her, might " God's vengeance " light upon him. 
Parker knew his love for her — " who does not? " He 
was " all astonishment at her uncle's conduct " ; as for 
his " aunt," he did not care " a fig for her." He would 
buy Madame Le Brun's portrait of her as well as 
Romney's. Still, the yellow demon had not yet quite 
deserted him. He still brooded on imaginary fears 
and scenes. "Did you sit alone with the villain? 
No ! I will not believe it. Oh, God ! Oh, God ! keep my 
sences. Do not let the rascal in. Tell the Duke * that 
you will never go to his house. Mr. G. 2 must be a 
scoundrel. He treated you once ill enough 3 and can- 
not love you, or he would sooner die. ... I have this 

1 Of Queensberry. * Greville. 

"This is proof positive that Nelson was aware of Emma's past. 



358 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

moment got my orders to put myself under Sir Hyde 
Parker's orders, and suppose I shall be ordered to 
Portsmouth to-morrow or next day, and then I will 
try to get to London for 3 days. May Heaven bless 
us, but don't let that fellow dine with you. . . . For- 
get every cross word: I now live." That very night he 
received the assurance of Emma's staunch determina- 
tion, however Sir William and Greville might remon- 
strate, and his answer breathes a profound and rap- 
turous calm : — " Your good sense, judgment, and 
proper firmness must endear you to all your friends, 
and to none more than your old and firm friend Nel- 
son. You have shown that you are above all tempta- 
tion, and not to be drawn into the paths of dishonour 
for to gratify any prince, or to gain any riches. How 
Sir William can associate with a person of a character 
so diametrically opposed to his own — but I do not 
choose, as this letter goes through any hands, to en- 
ter more at large on this subject. I glory in your 
conduct and in your inestimable friendship. ... I 
wish you were my sister that I might instantly give 
you half my fortune for your glorious conduct. Be 
firm! Your cause is that of honour against infamy. 
. . . You know that I would not, in Sir William's 
case, have gone to Court without my wife, and such 
a wife, never to be matched. It is true you would 
grace a Court better as a Queen than a visitor." 
" Good Sir William," he added, must, on reflection, 
" admire your virtuous and proper conduct." 

Nelson never forgot or ceased to praise Emma's 
conduct in this ticklish transaction. William Nelson 
shared his brother's admiration. But the lover holds 
her aloft as a matchless example in letters compatible 
with the most platonic affection. She is incomparable. 
The more he reads, the more he admires her " whole 
conduct." The thought of it inspired that " Santa 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 359 

Emma " letter written in the May of this very year 
on the St. George off Rostock, one excerpt from which, 
canonising her as a saint, has been already quoted. It 
inspired another uncited passage addressed to Emma a 
few weeks later. " I now know he never can dine with 
you; for you would go out of the house sooner than 
suffer it : and as to letting him hear you sing, I only 
hope he will be struck deaf and you dumb, sooner than 
such a thing should happen ! But I know it never now 
can. You cannot think how my feelings are alive 
towards you : probably more than ever : and they never 
can be diminished." 

In strength of will, in picturesqueness, in emphasis, 
in courage, it must be acknowledged that Nelson and 
Emma were affinities. 

The fresh correspondence between Emma and Mrs. 
William Nelson is interesting in relation to this 
episode, for through it we are enabled to hear Emma's 
own voice. It rings out true and clear, confirming 
every word that Nelson uttered. There is also here 
and there a touch in it of Emma as " stateswoman " 
once more. She never relaxed her interest in politics, 
and she was still in correspondence with Maria Caro- 
lina. 

Emma had welcomed Nelson's wish that his sister- 
in-law should be with her at such a trying moment. 
Unfortunately, " Reverend Doctor " and his wife had 
ended their stay in town just before the Sunday of the 
party which haunted Nelson came round. At Nel- 
son's request, however, the little woman, whose 
" tongue," he said, " never lay still," returned in the 
nick of time to fill the blank caused by his departure. 
On the very Friday of Nelson's two letters to Emma, 
she also took up her own tale to Mrs. Nelson. She 
was still in bed with a headache : ". . . It is such a pain 
to part with dear friends, and you and I liked each 



360 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

other from the moment we met: our souls were con- 
genial. Not so with Tom Tit, 1 for there was an an- 
tipathy not to be described. ... I received yester- 
day letters from that great adored being that we all so 
love, esteem, and admire. The more one knows him, 
the more one wonders at his greatness, his heart, his 
head booth so perfect. He says he is coming down to 
Spithead soon, he hopes. Troubridge comes to town 
to-day as one of the Lords, so he is settled for the pres- 
ent, but depend on it, my dear friend, this poor patched- 
up party can never hold long. A new coat will bear 
many a lag and tag as the vulgar phrase is, but an old 
patched mended one must tear. ... I am so unwell 
that I don't think we can have his Royal Highness to 
dinner on Sunday, which will not vex me. Addio, mia 
Cara arnica. You know as you are learning Italian, I 
must say a word or so. How dull my bedroom looks 
without you. I miss our little friendly confidential 
chats. But in this world nothing is compleat." And 
here Emma's philosophy follows : — " If all went on 
smoothly, one shou'd regret quitting it, but 'tis the 
many little vexations and crosses, separations from 
one's dear friends that make one not regret leaving 
it. . . ." 

On February the 24th Nelson hurried to London 
before he finally set out for the Baltic in the second 
week of the next month. A note from Emma in this 
new series describes his arrival to Mrs. Nelson. The 
letter is franked by Nelson himself to " Hillborough, 
Brandon, Suffolk " : — 

" My dearest Friend, — Your dear Brother arrived 

this morning by seven o'clock. He stays only 3 days, 

so by the time you wou'd be here, he will be gone. 

How unlucky you went so soon. I am in health so so, 

1 Lady Nelson. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 361 

but spirits today excellent. Oh, what real pleasure 
Sir William and I have in seeing this our great, good, 
virtuous Nelson. His eye is better. . . . Apropos 
Lady Nelson is at Brighton yet. The King, God bless 
him, is ill, and there are many speculations. Some 
say it is his old disorder. . . ." 

And on the next day, February 25 : — 

". . . Your good, dear Brother has just left me to 
go to pay a visit to Mr. Nepean, but is coming back 
to dinner with Morice, his brother, whom he brings 
with him, and Troubridge also. We shall be com- 
fortable, but more so if you had been here. Oh, I 
wish you was, and how happy would Milord have been 
to have had that happiness, to have walked out with 
Mrs. Nelson. . . . Our dear Nelson is very well in 
health. Poor fellow, he travelled allmost all night, 
but you that know his great, good heart will not be 
surprised at any act of friendship of his. I shall send 
for Charlotte to see him before he goes, and he has 
given 2 guineas for her. . . ." 

On the following morning again: — 

" Yesterday I cou'd not, my dearest friend, write 
much, and Milord was not yet returned from the Ad- 
miralty time enough to frank your letters, and sorry 
I was you shou'd pay for such trash that I sent you, 
but I thought you wou'd be uneasy. We had a pleas- 
ant evening [" and night " — erased]. I often thought 
on you, but now the subject of the King's illness gives 
such a gloom to everything. . . . Mr. Addington is 
not minister, for his commission was not signed be- 
fore the King was taken so ill, so Mr. Pitt is yet first 
Lord. . . . Our good Lord Nelson is lodged at 



^62 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Lothian's; Tom Tit, at the same place [Brighton]. 
The Cub x is to have a frigate, the Thalia. I suppose 
he will be up in a day or so. I only hope he does not 
come near me. If he does, not at home shall be the 
answer. I am glad he is going. . . . Milord has only 
Allen with him. We supped and talked politics till 2. 
Mr. East [Este?] who is a pleasant man, was with us. 
. . . Oh, my dearest friend, our dear Lord is just 
come in. He goes off to-night and sails imediately. 
My heart is fit to Burst quite with greef. Oh, what 
pain, God only knows. I can only say may the All- 
mighty God bless, prosper, and protect him! I shall 
go mad with grief. Oh, God only knows what it is to 
part with such a friend, such a one. We were truly 
called the Tria juncta in uno, for Sir W., he, and I 
have but one heart in three bodies. . . . He, our great 
Nelson, sends his love to you. . . . My greif will not 
let me say more. Heavens bless you, answer your af- 
flicted E. H." 

From Yarmouth, after a brief spell of final prepara- 
tion, Nelson sailed for the double feat of annihilating 
the Northern Confederation single-handed, and nego- 
tiating with a mastery both of men and management 
the truce that preceded the Peace of Amiens. Copen- 
hagen was now the key of the situation, as it was to 
prove six years later, when Canning saved Europe 
from the ruin of Austerlitz and the ignominy of Tilsit 
by that secret expedition which would have glad- 
dened Nelson, had he been alive. As victor and peace- 
maker he was now to stand forth supreme. " Time 
is our best ally," he wrote to Lord St. Vincent a few 
days later, when the wind caused a week's delay in 
the start of the refitted ships. " I hope we shall not 
give her up, as all our allies have given us up. Our 
1 Nelson's stepson Josiah Nisbet. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 363 

friend here is a little nervous about dark nights and 
fields of ice, but we must brace up; these are not times 
for nervous systems. I want peace, which is only to be 
had through, I trust, our still invincible navy " ; and, 
just before sailing, he made a declaration to Berry 
that no Briton should ever forget : — ". . . As to the 
plan for pointing a gun truer than we do at present, if 
the person comes, I shall of course look at it, and be 
happy, if necessary, to use it. But I hope that we 
shall be able, as usual, to get so close to our enemies, 
that our shots cannot miss their object, and that we 
shall again give our northern enemies that hailstorm 
of bullets which is so emphatically described in the 
Naval Chronicle, and which gives our dear country the 
dominion of the seas. We have it, and all the devils 
in hell cannot take it from us, if our zvooden zualls have 
fair play." On the verge of battle he indited three 
lines meant for Emma's eyes alone : " He has no fear 
of death but parting from you." 

Emma resumed her disconsolate epistles both to 
him and, until her return, to Mrs. William Nelson. 
The first can only be inferred from his most vehe- 
ment answers, while of the second a few scraps may 
find appropriate place. 

With a single exception she had withheld nothing 
from Nelson; their communion was unreserved. But 
of " Emma Carew," that " orphan," now a girl of 
nineteen, for whom she was still caring, who was soon 
to be put under the alternate charge of Mrs. Denis and 
of Mrs. Connor, and who was frequently to see her 
undisclosed mother at Merton, she seems to have kept 
silence. On the first day of March Nelson addressed 
to the " friend of his bosom " that most remarkable 
letter opening " Now, my own dear wife," which has 
become so hackneyed. He at last found a full vent 
for his feelings, for Oliver was the bearer of the paper. 



364 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

There was nothing, he said, that he would not do for 
them to live together, and to have their dear little child 
with them. He firmly believed that the imminent cam- 
paign would ensure peace, and then — who knew? — 
they might cross the water and live in avowed part- 
nership at Bronte. He wanted to see his wife no 
more, but until he could quit the country with Emma 
(and before that possibility England must be safe- 
guarded), there could be no open union. After en- 
suring a " glorious issue," he would return with " a 
little more fame " for his Emma, proud of him and 
their country. " I never did love any one else," he 
continues; " I never had a dear pledge of love till you 
gave me one, and you, thank my God, never gave one 
to anybody else. . . . You, my beloved Emma, and 
my country are the two dearest objects of my fond 
heart, a heart susceptible and true. Only place confi- 
dence in me and you never shall be disappointed." He 
is now convinced of his dominion over her. He protests 
in the most passionate phrases his longing and his con- 
stancy. He is hers all, only, and always. " My heart, 
body, and mind x is in perfect union of love towards 
my own dear beloved " — his matchless, his flawless 
Emma. 

Yet a living proof of flaw lurked in oblivion. We 
have heard Emma in 1798 sighing over her married 
childlessness. Horatia, Nelson's Horatia, was at 
length hers. Horatia's name and influence tinge his 
every tone; he even writes to the babe-in-arms, the 
child of his own heart. As Horatia's mother, Emma 
seems holy in his eyes. Every letter that he kisses 
before he sends it, is sealed with her head; each of 
hers with " Nelson " and " The Nile," with his glori- 

1 It is worthy of notice that he omits " soul." In a much later 
letter to her he says that his being is hers entirely, but that his 
" soul " is his Creator's. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 365 

ous emblem — " Honor est a Nilo." Was it now pos- 
sible, at this longed-for moment, to reveal the dark 
error of her day's clouded opening? She had been 
but seventeen when that other daughter, watched, be- 
friended, but never acknowledged, had been born. The 
foundling's disavowal had been wholly the work and 
craft of Greville, once so " good," so " tender " to her 
and the offspring that he snatched away from her 
girl's embrace. Was this the moment, she might well 
plead with the Pharisees, for withdrawing the veil that 
hid Horatia's half-sister from Nelson? She remained 
a " Protestant of the flesh " — a born pagan. As 
pagan she would be true in trial. She would do her 
duty as she knew it, and act her double part of nurse 
and wife. She would be generous and warm-hearted. 
But such surrender ! — Was it in human, in feminine 
nature? Had she been the born " saint " of Nelson's 
canonisation, she would have done so now. Pale and 
weeping, she would have humbled herself and placed 
that daughter by her side as some token of atonement. 
How the scribes of the long robe, like Greville, would 
have sneered, how Hamilton would have smiled ! And 
Hamilton's name — poor, fading Hamilton's — must 
surely have struck some chord in her better self. Who 
was she, what manner of man was Nelson, to make or 
exact such sacrifice ! Although Sir William's own re- 
cent weakness had endangered her, and belittled him 
before Nelson, they still esteemed him — formed to- 
gether, indeed, his right hand. And yet, whether 
Greville and he had guessed the truth or not, to him 
they were half traitors — an ugly word for an ugly 
fact ; for what had Caracciolo been but a traitor ! This 
was a moment when self -illusions might have van- 
ished, and Nelson's Roman virtue might have list- 
ened to the stern rebuke to David — " Thou art the 
man." Yet, contrasted with the lax crew of Carlton 



366 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

House and many at St. James's, Nelson and she were 
all but virtuous, virtuous sinners. Would her sin, 
then, ever find her out? Was this the time to bare her 
conscience to the world ? 

And during that brief London visit they had surely 
both seen the child, as they must have often done in 
the two succeeding years. Their visits suggest a strik- 
ing picture, — the spare, weather-beaten man in the 
plain black suit, with the firm yet morbid mouth; the 
beautiful woman longing to call aloud to her baby; 
the little, homely room; Nurse Gibson with her house- 
keeper air, furtively wondering why the great Lord 
Nelson and the Ambassador's lady were so much con- 
cerned in this work-a-day world, with the mysterious 
child of " Mr. and Mrs. Thomson." 

The very day that Emma received Nelson's con- 
fession of faith in her, she took up her pen once more 
to his sister-in-law: — 

" My dearest friend, anxiety and heart-bleedings for 
your dear brother's departure has made me so ill, I 
have not been able to write. I cannot eat or sleep. 
Oh, may God prosper and bless him. He has wrote 
to Lord Eldon for Mr. Nelson. You will have him 
at Yarmouth in two days. Oh, how I envy you ! Oh 
God, how happy you are! . . . My spirits and health 
is bad endeed. . . . Tom Tit is at Brighton. She did 
not come, nor did he go. Jove, for such he is — quite 
a Jove — knows better than that. Morrice means to 
go to Yarmouth. The Cub dined with us, but I never 
asked how Tom Tit was. . . . How I long to see you; 
do try and come, for God's sake do." And a like 
burden pervades the notes of days following: she is 
" so very low-spirited and ill " since " the best and 
greatest man alive went away." She has " no spirit to 
do anything." She prays Mrs. Nelson of her charity 
to come. They can then " walk and talk, and be so 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 367 

happy together." She can hear " all the news of my 
Hero." She has bought Charlotte presents, and will 
take them to her. The King is better, and Tom Tit is 
in the country. She sends every message to " little 
Horatio." She had been ill all night, and cannot even 
take the morning air. For the second time, " Calypso 
ne pouvait se consoler du depart d'Ulysse." 

Nelson had asked, Emma had hoped, that she and 
Sir William (for Nelson would never see her without 
her husband) might run down to Yarmouth, and bid 
him and the St. George farewell. But " his eternally 
obliged " Sir William (possibly warned by Greville) 
declined with civil thanks. He was dedicating every 
moment to art. Some of his choicest vases, to his 
great joy, had turned up from the wreck. Pending the 
dubious bounty of the Government, he was preparing 
to sell these and his pictures by auction. Among the 
latter were three portraits of his wife. Nelson was 
furious at Emma being thus for the second time " on 
sale." He bought the St. Cecilia, as has been re- 
counted earlier, for £300, and enshrined it as a true 
" saint " in his cabin: had it cost " 300 drops of blood," 
he would " have given it with pleasure." And almost 
up to the date of departure, renewed uneasiness about 
the loose set that Sir William now encouraged harassed 
him. Should she ever find herself in extremities, she 
must summon him back, and he would fly to her de- 
liverance. It was at this moment that in once more 
revising his will, he bequeathed to her a diamond 
star. 

It is strange that the virtuously indignant Miss 
Knight's pen should have been employed in celebrating 
the loves of Nelson and Lady Hamilton; yet such had 
been the case. Nelson retained them until the great 
battle was over, when he enclosed them in a letter to 
Emma : — 



368 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

"LTnfelice Emma ai Venti." 

"Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 
To Love and Emma kind! 
Ah! come! more grateful far 
Than perfumed zephyrs are. 
Blow, blow, and on thy welcome wing 
My Life, my Love, my Hero bring. 

Blest, blest the compass be 

Which steers my love to me! 

And blest the happy gale 

Which fills his homeward sail; 

And blest the boat, and blest each oar 

Which rows my True Love back to shore." 

And " blest," one might add, this maudlin trash. 
Robuster, at any rate, than these, surely, is the mediocre 
set that Emma composed for her hero in the same 
month. 

" Silent grief, and sad forebodings 

(Lest I ne'er should see him more), 
Fill my heart when gallant Nelson 
Hoists Blue Peter at the fore. 

On his Pendant anxious gazing, 
Filled with tears mine eyes run o'er; 

At each change of wind I tremble 
While Blue Peter's at the fore. 

All the livelong day I wander, 

Sighing on the sea-beat shore, 
But my sighs are all unheeded, 

When Blue Peter's at the fore. 

Oh that I might with my Nelson 
Sail the whole world o'er and o'er, 

Never should I then with sorrow 
See Blue Peter at the fore. 

But (ah me!) his ship's unmooring; 

Nelson's last boat rows from shore; 
Every sail is set and swelling, 

And Blue Peter's seen no more." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 369 

While Nelson reaped fresh laurels to lay at her feet, 
Emma waited for the peace which should bring him 
back, but which was indefinitely delayed. Among the 
frequenters of the Piccadilly household, " Old Q." and 
Lord William Douglas, an indefatigable scribbler of 
vers de societe, remained real friends, as Nelson con- 
stantly acknowledged, but the Carlton House gang still 
seems to have pestered her. For a space she became 
cross with herself, cross with Sir William and cross 
even with Nelson, whose most unselfish devotion to her 
never allowed the gall in her imperious nature to em- 
bitter its honey. But, despite her own ailments and 
her husband's, she soon resumed her energy. Never 
did she appear to better advantage, except in days of 
danger, than in those of sickness. She was always 
trying to get promotions for Nelson's old Captains, and 
caring for his proteges and dependants ; she even acted 
as Nelson's deputy in urging the authorities to supply 
him with the requisite officers so often denied him, 
that he would protest himself forgotten " by the great 
folks at home." To Nelson she wrote constantly, 
pouring out her heart and soul. 

From Kioge Bay Nelson sailed to Revel, from Revel 
to Finland; and thence Russia-ward to complete his 
work of peace by an interview with the new Czar, and 
with that Count Pahlen who had headed the assassina- 
tors of Paul in his bedroom. The Russians feted him 
and found him the facsimile of their " young 
Suwaroff." Nelson's new triumph — one of naviga- 
tion, of strategy, and of ubiquitous diplomacy as well 
— which had again saved England and awoke the un- 
measured gratitude of the people, met with the same 
chill reception from the Government as of old. Nel- 
son had always been his own Admiral. He habitu- 
ally disobeyed orders : it was intolerable. They sus- 
pected the armistice that he had made in the thick of 



37o EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the battle; all along, the white flag seems to have pur- 
sued Nelson with misconstruction. He has himself 
recorded in two letters to Lad)'- Hamilton a telling vin- 
dication, which does honour to his humanity and to 
his prudence. He did not conceal his vexation. " I 
know mankind well enough," he told Hamilton, " to be 
sure that there are those in England who wish me at 
the devil. If they only wish me out of England, 
they will soon be gratified, for to go to Bronte I am 
determined. So I have wrote the King of the Two 
Sicilies, whose situation I most sincerely pity." He 
comforts himself that he is " backed with a just cause 
and the prayers of all good people. No medals were 
struck for Copenhagen; even the City began to flag 
in its appreciation. He flew out against the Lord 
Mayor who had once said, " Do you find victories, and 
we will find rewards." It was not for himself but 
for his officers that he coveted the latter; and yet, as he 
was to write in the following year, " I have since that 
time found two complete victories. I have kept my 
word. They who exist by victories at sea have not." 
Nelson " could not obey the Scriptures and bless them." 
The victory itself he extolled as the most hard-earned 
and complete in the annals of the navy. He was a 
bold man, Addington told him, to disregard orders : he 
rejoined that in taking the risk he counted on Adding- 
ton's support. And Nelson was further troubled not 
only by wretched health and disappointment at the 
frustration of an earlier return, but by the blow of his 
brother Maurice's death. Amid his own engrossing 
avocations, he hastened to assure the poor blind 
" widow " that she was to cease fretting over her pros- 
pects, remain at Laleham, and count on him as a 
brother. " I am sure you will comfort poor blind 
Mrs. Nelson," he writes to Emma. 

Both Sir William and Emma cheered him under de- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 371 

presssion. He had now done enough, wrote Sir Will- 
iam. It was the ne plus ultra. He quoted Virgil : — 

" Hie victor caestus artemque reponam." 

As for Emma, let Sir William's words depict her : — 
" You would have laughed to have seen what I saw 
yesterday. Emma did not know whether she was on 
her head or her heels — in such a hurry to tell your 
great news, that she could utter nothing but tears of 
joy and tenderness." Once more she is " the same 
Emma " — the Emma after the battle of the Nile. 

Nelson responded with avidity to his now " dearest, 
amiable friend." As her birthday neared he reminded 
her of those happy times a year gone by, and con- 
trasted them with the present — " How different, how 
forlorn." His body and spirit, like his ships, required 
refitting. His " dearest wife " alone could nurse him, 
and only her generous soul comfort the' " forlorn out- 
cast." He half hoped that the Admiralty wanted to 
replace him. He would willingly have re-commanded 
in the Baltic, should emergencies re-arise, if only they 
would concede him his needed interval of rest. He 
" would return with his shield or upon it." 

With his shield the Pacificator of the North at length 
landed at Yarmouth on the 1st of July. He repaired 
first to Lothian's hotel, as usual, but he was soon 
ensconced with the Hamiltons. He was not suffered to 
remain long. While the King and Queen of Naples 
— still Emma's amie soeur — were besetting him with 
lines of sympathy in the hope that he might re- 
emancipate them from renewed distress in the Medi- 
terranean, Nelson was ordered, at the end of July, to 
baffle Buonaparte once more in the Channel. The 
meditated invasion of England terrified the nation. 
Consols tumbled, panic prevailed; all eyes were fixed 
on the one man who could save his country. 



372 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

But an unheroic interlude happened before his worn 
frame was again called upon to bear the strain. Emma 
it was who took him out of town. Their first ramble 
was to Box Hill ; and thence they went to the Thames. 
Sir William, as angler, frequented the " Bush Inn " at 
Staines — " a delightful place," writes Emma, " well 
situated, ard a good garden on the Thames." "We 
thought it right to let him change the air and often." 
She had been ill at ease, chafing at the doubtful predica- 
ment in which devotion to< the lover and care for the 
husband increasingly placed her; this little trip might 
afford a breathing-space. " The party," relates 
Emma, " consisted of Sir William and Lady Hamil- 
ton, the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. Nelson, Miss Nelson and 
the brave little Parker, who afterwards lost his life 
in that bold, excellent and vigorous attack at Bou- 
logne, where such unexampled bravery was shown by 
our brave Nelson's followers." 

" Old Q." and Lord William Douglas, detained 
with a sigh in town, forwarded their apologies in 
verse : — 

" So kind a letter from fair Emma's hands, 
Our deep regret and warmest thanks commands," 

and so forth. It satirises the parson's gluttony and 
banters his chatterbox of a wife. It depicts " Cleo- 
patra " rowing " Antony " in the boat. It dwells on 
the old " Cavaliere " and his " waterpranks," his 
" bites," his virtu, his memories of excavation, and 
his stock of endless anecdotes. It holds up to our 
view poor, fatuous Hamilton as a prosy raconteur. 

" Or, if it were my fancy to regale 
My ears with some long, subterraneous tale, 
Still would I listen, at the same time picking 
A little morsel of Staines ham and chicken; 
But should he boast of Herculaneum jugs, 
Damme, I'd beat him with White's pewter mugs " ; 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 373 

while little red-cheeked, sloe-eyed Charlotte, rod in 
hand, yet shuddering at the fisherman's cruelty towards 
" the guileless victims of a murderous meal," is ad- 
jured to 

"Heave a young sigh, and shun the proffered dish." 

Emma's life was now wholly Nelson's; it is a relief 
to pass to a worthier scene. The main toils of the 
Channel defence were over. So was Nelson's keen 
disappointment in the deferred arrival of the Hamil- 
tons to visit him at Deal on the Amazon. Sir William 
had been with Greville to look after the Milford estate. 
It was mid-September, and that second " little Parker," 
the truest friend of the man who felt that " without 
friendship life is misery," lay dying. Nelson had 
styled himself Parker's father. The death of one so 
young, promising, and affectionate, desolated him, and 
he would not be comforted. It was Parker who had 
looked up to him with implicit belief and absolute self- 
forget fulness ; Parker who had addressed his letters 
and run his and Emma's errands ; Parker who, he had 
recently told her, " Knows my love for you ; and to 
serve you, I am sure he would run bare-footed to 
London " ; he had been called her " aide-de-camp." 
Together Nelson and Emma sat in the hospital and 
smoothed the pillows of the death-bed. Together they 
listened to his last requests and bade him still be of 
good cheer : for a few days there was " a gleam of 
hope." On September 27 he expired, and Nelson could 
say with truth that he " was grieved almost to death." 
The solemnity of that moment can never quite have 
deserted Emma. 

Sad', but not hopeless, Nelson was purposely kept 
hovering round the Kentish coast until his final release 
towards the close of October. Yet Emma spurred him 
to his duty. " How often have I heard you say," he 



374 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

wrote to her at this very time, " that you would not 
quit the deck if you came near a Frenchman?" He 
made use of his time to forward Hamilton's interests 
with Pitt, on whom he called at Walmer, but found 
" Billy " " fast asleep." As he walked back, a scene 
with Emma of the previous spring rose again before 
him : " The same road that we came when the carriage 
could not come with us that night ; and all rushed into 
my mind and brought tears into my eyes. Ah ! how 
different to walking with such a friend as you, and 
Sir William, and Mrs. Nelson." In her anxiety for 
his return, Emma actually upbraided him with being a 
" time-server." The Admiralty would not yield even 
" one day's leave for Piccadilly." It was the 14th be- 
fore he could tell her with gusto " To-morrow week 
all is over — no thanks to Sir Thomas." Just before 
he struck his flag he wrote, in pain as usual, " I wish 
the Admiralty had my complaint; but they have no 
bowels, at least for me." 

He was now at length to possess a homestead and 
haven of his own. " Whatever Sir Thomas Trou- 
bridge may say," he wrote to his " guardian angel " in 
August, " out of your house I have no home." Soon 
after the Copenhagen conquest, he and his " dearest 
friend," at this moment with poor Mrs. Maurice Nel- 
son, the widow of Laleham, had been mooting to each 
other projects for such a nest. He would like, he 
wrote, " a good lodging in an airy situation." A 
house in Turnham Green and others had been rejected, 
but at last one suitable had been found. Like almost 
everything connected with them both, difficulties and 
a dramatic moment attended its acquisition. The pre- 
liminaries of the Peace of Amiens were yet a secret, 
but Nelson had informed himself of the coining truce, 
so acceptable to him. Before its ratification had been 
divulged, Merton Place was bought — in the general de- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 375 

pression — for the low sum of about six thousand 
pounds. But even this amount of capital was not 
easy for Nelson to raise, and the enthusiastic Davison 
— one of the few friends to whom Nelson would ever 
lie under the slightest obligation — lent him the money. 
Sir William seems to have objected to Emma's town 
hospitality to her relations. Nelson found in this an 
additional reason for purchasing a roof-tree which he 
desired her to treat as her own. " I received your kind 
letters last evening," he wrote to her on this and other 
heads, " and in many parts they pleased and made me 
sad. So life is chequered, and if the good predom- 
inates, then we are called happy. I trust the farm will 
make you more so than a dull London life. Make 
what use you please of it. It is as much yours as if 
you bought it. Therefore, if your relative cannot stay 
in your house in town, surely Sir William can have no 
objection to your taking to the farm [her relation] : 
the pride of the Hamiltons surely cannot be hurt by 
settling down with any of your relations; you have 
surely as much right for your relations to come into 
the house as his could have." 

The whole affair was left entirely to Emma's man- 
agement. She beset Nelson's solicitor, Haslewood, 
with letters, begging him to hurry forward the ar- 
rangements, and pressing the proprietor, Mr. Graves, 
to oblige Lord Nelson's " anxiety." Builders and 
painters were in the house immediately, to fit it for 
the hero's reception. The indispensable Mrs. Cado- 
gan, now in charge of Nelson's new " Peer's robe," 
bustled in and out, covered to the elbows with brick- 
dust. Emma set to work with a will, organising, or- 
dering, preparing: in rough housework she delighted. 
She and her mother set up pigstyes, arranged the farm, 
stocked with fish the streamlet, spanned by its pretty 
Italian bridge. She procured the boat in which Nel- 



376 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

son had promised she should row him on that minia- 
ture " Nile," which was really the Wandle. Day after 
day they slaved — glad to be quit of the artificial life 
in Piccadilly — so that all might be spick and span 
within the few weeks before the 22nd of October, the 
great day of Nelson's arrival. The whole village was 
eager to greet him. All the neighbours, the musical 
Goldsmids, the rustic Halfhides, the literary Perrys, 
the Parratts, the Newtons, the Pattersons, and Lan- 
caster, were proud of the newcomers. Never had 
Merton experienced such excitement since one of the 
first Parliaments had there told Henry III. that the 
" laws of England " could not be changed. There, 
too, the same sovereign had concluded his peace with 
the Dauphin — a good augury for the present moment. 
Nelson wanted to defray all the annual expenses, but 
Sir William insisted on an equal division, and rigorous 
accounts were kept which still remain. 

" I have lived with our dear Emma several years," 
he jests in a letter to Nelson, " I know her merit, have 
a great opinion of the head and heart God Almighty 
has been pleased to give her, but a seaman alone could 
have given a fine woman full power to choose and fit up 
a residence for him, without seeing it himself. You 
are in luck, for on my conscience, I verily believe that 
a place so suitable to your views could not have been 
found and at so cheap a rate. For, if you stay away 
three days longer, I do not think you can have any 
wish but you will find it compleated here. And then 
the bargain was fortunately struck three days before 
an idea of peace got about. Now, every estate in this 
neighbourhood has increased in value, and you might 
get a thousand pounds for your bargain. ... I never 
saw so many conveniences united in so small a com- 
pass. You have nothing but to come and to enjoy im- 
mediately. You have a good mile of pleasant dry 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 379 

walk around your farm. It would make you laugh 
to see Emma and her mother fitting- up pigstyes and 
hencoops, and already the Canal is enlivened with 
ducks, and the cock is strutting with his hen about the 
walks." 

Hamilton still retained the house in Piccadilly; he 
was now living above his means; as fast as money 
came in, the " housekeeping draughts " drew it out. 
His grand entertainments had proved a bad invest- 
ment. One cannot help smiling when Nelson tells 
Emma during her Merton preparations, " You will 
make us rich with your economies." 

When Nelson at length drove down from London 
in his postchaise to this suburban land of promise, it 
was under a triumphal arch that he entered it, while 
at night the village was illuminated. Here at last, 
and in the " piping " times of peace, the strange Tria 
juncta in uno were re-united ; what Nelson had longed 
for had come to pass. Here, too, the man who loved 
retirement and privacy might hope to enjoy them; 
" Oh ! how I hate to be stared at ! " had been his 
ejaculation but two months before. And, above all, 
here he hoped to have Horatia with them in their 
walks, and to see her christened. 

One of the first visitors was his simple old father, 
who maintained a friendly correspondence with Emma. 
By the close of the year the William Nelsons also 
stayed at Merton to rejoin their " jewel " of a 
daughter. 

How smoothly and pleasantly things proceeded at 
first may be gleaned from Emma's further new letters 
to Mrs. William Nelson (then staying in Stafford 
Street). Emma occasionally drives into London for 
" shopping parties " (shops she could never resist) 
with Nelson's sister-in-law. 

No sooner had Nelson returned, than they all went 



oj78 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

together to beg a half-holiday for Charlotte. — " All 
girls pale before Charlotte " ; and her classmate, a 
Miss Fuss, is " more stupid than ever, I think." — 
Charlotte came for her Exeat and fished with Sir 
William in the " Nile " : they caught three large pike. 
She helped him and Nelson on with their great-coats, 
" so now I have nothing to do." " Dear Horace," 
whose birthday Nelson always remembered, must soon 
come also. Nelson was proud of Charlotte and of her 
" improvement " under Emma's directions. Emma, 
too, was proud of her role as governess. Charlotte 
turned over the prayers for the great little man in 
church. They were all regular church-goers. (Had 
not Nelson sincerely written to her earlier that they 
would do nothing but good in their village, and set 
" an example of godly life "?) Nelson and Sir Will- 
iam were the " greatest friends in the world." (Did 
he ever, one wonders, call him "my uncle"?) The 
" share-and-share alike " arrangement answered ad- 
mirably — " it comes easy to booth partys." They 
none of them cared to visit much, though all were most 
kind in inviting them. " Our next door neighbours, 
Mr. Halfhide and his family, wou'd give us half of 
all they have, very pleasant people, and Mr. and Mrs. 
Newton allso; but I like Mrs. Halfhide very much in- 
deed. She sent Charlotte grapes." As for Nelson, 
he was " very happy " : — " Indeed we all make it our 
constant business to make him happy. He is better 
now, but not well yet." " He has frequent sick- 
ness, and is Low, and he throws himself on the 
sofa tired and says, ' I am worn out.' ' She hopes 
" we shall get him up " — a phrase reminiscent of the 
laundry. 

Hamilton himself averred to Greville that he too was 
quite satisfied. The early hours and fresh air agreed 
with him: he could run into town easily for his hob- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 379 

bies; he was cataloguing his books; he still hoped 
against hope that Addington would help him. 

Eden at length without a serpent — at least so Nel- 
son and Emma imagined. Merton idyllicised them. 
"Dear, dear Merton!" If only baby Horatia could 
be there (and soon she was) it would be perfect. As 
she was to express it in the last letter she could ever 
forward to him, and which he was never able to read 
— " Paradise Merton ; for when you are there it will be 
paradise." 



CHAPTER XII 

EXIT " NESTOR " 

January, 1802 — May, 1803 

THE winding high-road on the right of Wimble- 
don towards Epsom leads to what once was 
the Merton that Nelson and Emma loved. A 
sordid modern street is now its main approach, but 
there are still traces of the quaint old inns and houses 
that jutted in and out of lanes and hedgerows. The 
house that many a pilgrim thinks a piece of the old 
structure may well be the remains of Mr. Halfhide's 
or Mr. Newton's. Through a side road is found the 
sole relic of Merton Place that has braved the ravages 
of time and steam. Opposite a small railway station, 
and near a timber-yard, stands the ruin of an ivied and 
castellated gate, through which the stream meanders 
on which Emma would row her hero, around which 
the small Horatia played, in which Charlotte and 
Horatio fished; while on its banks Nelson planted a 
mulberry-tree that Emma fondly vaunted would rival 
Shakespeare's. Goldsmid's Georgian house still 
stands; but Merton Place has vanished into the vista 
of crumbled yet unforgotten things. The ancient 
church, however, though enlarged and well restored, 
is much the same. Its churchyard still shows familiar 
names — Thomas Bowen, and the Smiths who were to 
be poor Emma's last befrienders. In the south aisle 
is a picture attributed to Luca Giordano whose name 

380 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 381- 

must have recalled Naples to Hamilton. The very- 
bench on which they sat is still kept in the vestry. The 
hatchment with Nelson's bearings, which Emma pre- 
sented after Trafalgar, still hangs in the nave. The 
fine old house — " Church House " — which they must 
have passed so often, still fronts the church porch. 
Even when they were there, the famous Priory where 
the great Becket was educated, and round which Mer- 
ton's feudal memories clustered, had been replaced by 
calico factories. How eagerly must Nelson have 
awaited a glimpse even of these, when he drove up 
along the Portsmouth road for his last brief sojourn in 
the home of his heart; how wistfully must he have 
passed them, when the door clicked to, and off he 
rattled to eternity! 

The two snakes in the grass of " Paradise " Merton 
were lavishness and, as it would seem, its contrast, 
Greville. 

Nelson's liberality was as unbounded as abused; 
even his skin-flint brother William begged him to re- 
frain in his own favour. Applications rained from 
all quarters. A Yorkshireman wrote and said he 
would be pleased to receive £300. " Are these peo- 
ple mad? " sighed the hero, " or do they take me quite 
for a fool?" He was always bestowing handsome 
presents, while for his many regular benefactions he 
had sometimes to draw on Davison. And Emma's 
open-handedness was not far behindhand. She scat- 
tered broadcast to her relations, to the poor, deserv- 
ing or the reverse. The Connors soon began to prey 
on her anticipated means. Money burned a hole in 
her pocket, and she never stopped to think of the 
future. Before the year closed she left a note from 
Coutts for her husband on her toilet-table to the ef- 
fect that her ladyship's balance was now twelve shil- 



382 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

lings. Greville must have shuddered when his uncle 
forwarded it to him. " Sensibility " was always over- 
drawing its banking account, and " Nature " continu- 
ally forestalling expectations. Added to largesse was 
some extravagance, but not to the degree that has 
often been put forward : it was by no means enor- 
mous, and in these days might be considered normal 
for her husband's position. Emma was in a holiday 
mood. Hamilton would not brace himself to the real 
retrenchment of giving up the London house, nor 
would Emma forego superfluities. Merton, though 
with intervals of quiet, became open house. Nelson's 
sisters, with their families — the Boltons with six, the 
Matchams with eight, his brother, still hunting for 
preferment, with his " precious " Charlotte, and little 
Horatio, the heir; old naval friends, including "poor 
little fatherless' Fady," whom, it will be remembered, 
Emma tended in 1798. Emma's kindred, Italian sing- 
ers, the theatrical and musical Mrs. Lind, Mrs. Billing- 
ton, and Mrs. Denis; " Old Q." from Richmond, Wol- 
cot the satirist, Hayley from Felpham, Dr. Fisher from 
Doctors' Commons ; Admiralty big-wigs, disgusted of- 
ficials, noisy journalists, foreign bearers of Nelson's 
decorations, the Abbe Campbell, Prince Castelcicala 
the Neapolitan ambassador, the Marquis Schinato, 
Maria Carolina's own son, Prince Leopold — all were 
indiscriminately welcomed. It was a menagerie. The 
Tysons, too, were now at Woolwich, and to them, 
as Nelson's attached adherents, Emma was all atten- 
tion. She chaperoned their young people to balls. 
She healed their conjugal differences : Mrs. Tyson was 
never so happy as at Merton, when her dear husband 
was restored to her, and she could at last " take the 
sacrament with a composed mind," and " bless 
dear Lady Hamilton." Benevolence, hospitality, and 
racket each mingled in the miscellany, and all of them 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 383 

tended to outrun the constable. The cellar was stocked 
with wine, and perhaps included some of those large 
gifts from foreign potentates to which a reference is 
made in the Life of the Reverend Dr. Scott. How- 
ever that may be, when Emma's affairs were liquidated 
seven years later, the valuation of the cellar amounted 
to no less than two thousand pounds. 

Nelson, who had protested against large gatherings, 
affected to enjoy Liberty Hall ; all that his Emma com- 
manded was exemplary. And, indeed, as appears from 
the accounts preserved in the Morrison autographs, the 
profusion was far greater in London, allowing for the 
expenditure of both houses. The joint weekly ex- 
penses at Merton were often no higher than some £30. 
Hamilton, however, whose own extravagance con- 
tributed, though he justified it by hopes from Adding- 
ton, soon began to murmur. Greville, the monitor, 
was at his elbow. The heir's prospects were being 
imperilled by that very Emma whose thrift he had 
first inculcated and extolled; it was too bad; he must 
protect his old uncle, who protested to him that only 
fear of an " explosion " which might destroy his best 
friend's comfort stopped his rebellion against the 
" nonsense " that invaded his quiet. Before the year 
was out he even meditated an amicable separation. He 
did not complain ; he still loved her. But he could not 
but perceive that her whole time and attention were 
bestowed on Nelson and " his interest." Therefore 
(and here Greville's voice appears to recur), after his 
hard fag at Naples, at his waning age, and under the 
circumstances, a wise and well-concerted separation 
might be preferable to " nonsense " and silly alterca- 
tions. He had not long to live, and " every moment 
was precious " to him. He only wanted to be left 
alone at Staines, or Christie's, the Tuesday Club, the 
Literary Society, and the British Museum. " Nestor " 



384 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

continued a philosopher. They might still get on well 
enough apart, or together, if Emma would but consult 
the comfort of a worn-out diplomatist and virtuoso: 
" I am arrived at the age when some repose is really 
necessary, and I promised myself a quiet home, and 
although I was sensible, and I said so when I married, 
that I should be superannuated when my wife would be 
in her full beauty and vigour of youth; that time is ar- 
rived, and we must make the best of it for the comfort 
of both parties." He " well knew " the " purity of 
Lord Nelson's friendship " for them both. Nelson 
was their best friend, and it would pain him deeply to 
disturb his life or hurt his feelings. " There is no 
time for nonsense or trifling. I know and admire your 
talents and many excellent qualities, but I am not 
blind to your defects, and confess having many 
myself; therefore, let us bear and forbear, for God's 
sake." 

The voice of this last appeal is that of the kindly old 
epicurean, and not of the calculating cynic. Emma, 
erring Emma, responded to it, and peace was restored 
for the few months remaining. So far, our entire 
sympathy must be with the worried and injured Ham- 
ilton. But ere this his necessities, and the cunning use 
to which his nephew seems to have put them, had 
prompted a plan which must lower him in our estima- 
tion. 

As a rule, when Greville was asked (and he often 
was) to Merton, he politely excused himself. So 
anxious was Sir William for his presence that he actu- 
ally assured him of Nelson's " love," whereas Nelson, 
as we know, misliked the cold-blooded caster-off of his 
paragon. Greville, however, perpetually sent his 
warmest messages to the whole party, including his old 
acquaintance Mrs. Cadogan. With Greville, by hook 
or crook, a strange scheme was now to be concocted. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 385 

Failing the princely aid of the previous spring-, 1 bar- 
gain after his own heart was being revived. 

It will be recollected that Beckford, wearied of soli- 
tary magnificence, had offered Sir William a large an- 
nuity if he could induce royalty to grant a peerage to 
Hamilton with a reversion to himself. The Marquis of 
Douglas, heir of the ninth Duke of Hamilton and head 
of the clan, had shown symptoms of attachment to 
Euphemia, Beckford's daughter, whom in the end he 
married. If this attachment could be played upon for 
the purpose by the wary diplomatist, Beckford's object 
and Hamilton's might be secured. For such a plum 
Beckford now proposed a life annuity of £2000 that his 
kinsman might maintain the dignity of the peerage, 
and after his death one of £500 to Emma; while, as a 
bribe to ministers, Beckford's " two sure seats " were 
to be at their disposal. 

Hamilton opened his mind the more freely to his 
" dear Marquis " on this " delicate " business since 
there existed a " very remarkable sympathy between 
them." Beckford had actually sent his West India 
agent to Merton for the management of this affair. 
Sir William ridiculed the mere notion of himself covet- 
ing such empty honours. He might, however, be use- 
ful to his friends, and no eclat need attend the transac- 
tion. Beckford had " strong claims on Government." 
An idea had struck Hamilton that the Marquis might 
one day be intimately connected with the Fonthill fam- 
ily. He did not demand definite answers; he was 
" sensible of its being a delicate point," yet he could not 
help flattering himself that " the good Duke of H. and 
myself would readily undertake anything for Emma's 
and my advantage, provided it could be done sans vous 
compromettre trop." The Marquis promptly answered 
his kinsman's " very kind and confidential letter from 
Merton " by a gentle refusal. He found town very 



386 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

empty, but a select few, his books, papers, and pic- 
tures, contented him. As to the matter in hand, it was, 
he feared, quite impracticable. With regard to his 
own inclinations, " any symptoms of any sort ' which 
might have ' appeared in any part of his family " were 
unknown to and unencouraged by him. Hamilton 
must convey every kind expression to Lord Nelson and 
Lady Hamilton; to himself he need not name his re- 
gard, and he was and ever should be his affectionate 
friend. 

Poor " Nestor " ! To this pass have art and am- 
bassadorship brought him. And, alas, poor Emma, 
that she, too, should enlist her Nelson in such a 
service ! 

This disappointment happened in the summer, but in 
the spring an event occurred which cast real gloom over 
the Merton household. In April died, at his favourite 
Bath, the well-loved father, that kindly, upright Eng- 
lish clergyman, whom his great son fondly cherished, 
and whom he had actually wished to be a permanent 
inmate of the household. Nelson's health immediately 
grew worse. His first care, however, was for others, 
for his brother and sisters and his father's old man- 
servant. Condolences poured in upon him; nor was 
Emma the least grief -stricken, for this truly Christian 
soul had treated her with chivalrous charity, had wholly 
refrained from cruel speculations, and had rather 
sought to raise the thoughts of this strange incomer 
into Horatio's life. While the brother flattered for 
gain, while every application for Nelson's favour came 
through her, she had known and felt that Nelson's 
father, who refused to realise the truth, was wholly 
good as well as godly. She was in London at the 
time, and what she wrote has not survived. Sir Will- 
iam's letter has. It is characteristic of his " philos- 
ophy " — that of " the best of all possible worlds " : — 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 387 

Piccadilly, April 28, 1802. 
". . . Emma says I must write a letter to you of 
condolence for the heavy loss your lordship has suf- 
fered. When persons in the prime of life are carried 
off by accident or sickness — or what is, I believe, 
oftener the case, by the ignorance and mistakes of the 
physicians — then, indeed, there is reason to lament. 
But, as in the case of your good father, the lamp was 
suffered to burn out fairly, and that his sufferings were 
not great; and that by his son's glorious and unparal- 
leled successes, he saw his family ennobled, and with 
the probability in time of its being amply rewarded, 
as it ought to have been long ago — his mind could not 
be troubled, in his latter moments, on account of the 
family he left behind him. And as to his own peace 
of mind at the moment of his dissolution, there can be 
no doubt, among those who ever had the honour of his 
acquaintance. . . ." 

Before the blow, however, had fallen that sad- 
dened Merton, a dinner and musical party was given 
at which Braham, who was afterwards to sing, amid 
furore, the " Death of Nelson," performed. 

Nelson had much offended a society that longed to 
lionise him by sequestering himself from it altogether. 
Except at the assemblies of the Hamiltons' friends, he 
seldom figured at all, and the outraged Lady Nelson's 
advocates added this to their weightier reproaches 
against the " horrid " woman at Merton. He pre- 
ferred even Bohemian routs to the solemnities of 
Downing Street or the frivolities of Mayfair, though 
he disliked all gatherings but those of intimate friends. 

Among the guests of this evening was their old ac- 
quaintance Lord Minto, formerly of Vienna. He was 
disgusted at the interior with its trophies and por- 
traits, but, above all, with Emma herself. Doubtless 

.Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 13 



388 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the sight of him put her in her most self-assertive vein. 
The reader must form his own judgment; but at any 
rate the censor, in this record, seems mistaken in sup- 
posing that the Hamiltons were " living on " Nelson. 
The Merton accounts in the Morrison Collection prove 
that all expenses were scrupulously shared. And when 
he brands Emma's effusiveness to Nelson as flattery, 
what would he have said had he been able, as we are, 
to read Nelson's own outpourings to Emma? If hers 
was " flattery," then still more was his. But diplomats 
are not psychologists, nor have they always insight into 
such emotional temperaments. 

". . . The whole establishment and way of life is 
such as to make me angry as well as melancholy; but I 
cannot alter it. I do not think myself obliged or at 
liberty to quarrel with him for his weakness, though 
nothing shall ever induce me to give the smallest 
countenance to Lady Hamilton. She looks eventually 
to the chance of marriage. ... In the meanwhile, she, 
Sir William, and the whole set of them are living with 
him at his expense. She is in high looks, but more 
immense than ever. She goes on cramming Nelson 
with trowel fuls of flattery, which he goes on taking as 
quietly as a child does pap. The love she makes to 
him is not only ridiculous, but disgusting. Not only 
the rooms, but the whole house, staircase and all, are 
covered with nothing but pictures of her and him, of all 
sizes and sorts, and representations of his naval actions, 
coats of arms, pieces of plate in his honour, the flag- 
staff of L'Orient, etc., an excess of vanity which coun- 
teracts its own purpose. If it was Lady H.'s house, 
there might be a pretence for it. To make his own 
a mere looking-glass to view himself all day is bad 
taste. Braham, the celebrated Jew singer, performed 
with Lady H. She is horrid, but he entertained me 
in spite of her. Lord Nelson explained to me a little 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 389 

the sort of blame imputed to Sir Hyde Parker for Co- 
penhagen. . . ." 

It was certainly a queer household for seemly self- 
importance to enter. Without question, there was 
warrant for worse than such superficial strictures as 
those in which Elliot here indulged. Emma had deteri- 
orated, and she had never fitted the formalities of 
English drawing-rooms. Average folk, as will be 
seen hereafter, she charmed. But the guest, though 
naturally affronted, was likely to be prejudiced. 
Emma was wholly offensive to him, and the patronising 
air of one whom Braham's pathos " entertained " may, 
after its own manner, have been irritating also. The 
ambassador was an official type of good taste, and of 
Emma, it must be thought, there was always overmuch 
in a room. His looks on this occasion must have been 
vinegar, and can have ill accorded with that natural 
sweetness of expression which, by consent of friend 
and foe alike, distinguished Emma from first to last. 
Officialism had set itself against Nelson like a flint, 
and, likely enough, his devotee was supercilious to her 
enemy, whom probably she mimicked after he had 
gone, as she certainly used to mimic Nelson's fussy 
brother. Still, however it may be deplored, the stub- 
born fact remains that Britain's deliverer loved this 
woman's reality, and misliked the spirit of officialism; 
that against him were arrayed the pettiest forces at 
home and the mightiest abroad. Nelson endures in 
history, and with him Emma, while patterns of the 
primmest diplomacy have long faded into the vague- 
ness of distance. To appraise Emma, not defence but 
understanding is requisite. Antipathy, like flattery, 
is the worst critic; and pedantic antipathy is perhaps 
its worst form. Burleigh would have made a bad 
judge of the Queen of Scots, and Cicero of Cleopatra. 

Emma's " immensity " had been for some time in 



390 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

evidence, and was grossened in the caricatures. She 
affected to think that fatness became her fine stature 
and large proportions. It was due, partly, to the por- 
ter which she drank for the sake of her voice, and 
which, as appears in the earlier letters of the Morrison 
Collection, had been forwarded by Greville to his uncle 
long before Emma had entered his life at Naples. 

In the June of this year, too, died Admiral Sir John 
Willet-Payne, who, after sitting in Parliament, had for 
some time been treasurer of Greenwich Hospital. Nel- 
son must have known him, and curiosity is aroused 
as to whether Emma ever saw her first tempter again, 
and what he thought of her marvellous career. 

And in November was to flicker out that sensitive 
genius and singular being to whom Emma had been so 
beholden in her girlhood. Romney, wasting with mel- 
ancholy, had resought the refuge of the Kendal roof- 
tree and the ministering wife so long neglected. In 
one of his conversations with Hayley, he told him that 
he had always studied " Sensibility " by observing the 
fibrous lines around the mouth. It was Emma's mouth 
that had been a revelation to him. One cannot help 
wishing that some final correspondence between them 
may one day be discovered. 

For the summer, Hamilton had planned a driving 
tour to the Milford property, where the nephew and 
steward wished to show his uncle the best work of his 
life — a flourishing settlement of labourers. Emma 
and Nelson accompanied him on the Welsh trip, which 
soon turned into a fresh triumphal progress for the 
hero of the Nile and of Copenhagen, who shamed the 
Government by remaining a Vice-Admiral. Greville's 
presence may be assumed. Certainly he was at Mil- 
ford. Before they started, William Nelson, who had 
just returned from bowing to " Billy " Pitt at Cam- 
bridge, his wife and their young Horatio, were added 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 391 

to the group of travellers. It is strange on this occa- 
sion to find the triple alliance of Nelson and the Ham- 
iltons reinforced by Greville, before whom, Nelson 
had told Emma, conversation must be restrained; in 
his official presence they could not speak freely " of 
kings and beggars." This journey, like its continental 
predecessor, was certainly not calculated to allay irrita- 
tion in high places. 

They started on the 9th of July with Box Hill once 
more — " a pretty place, and we are all very happy." 
They went on to Oxford, where Nelson received the 
freedom of the city in a fine box to the music of finer 
orations, and where the Matchams joined the caravan. 
It was here that on a visit to Blenheim the Marlbor- 
oughs infuriated Emma by declining to receive her. 
She was determined to appeal, for herself and her hero, 
to the Caesar of the people. She performed her music 
both for the select and the vulgar. Everywhere Emma 
beat the big drum of popular enthusiasm. The long 
highroads, the swarming streets, the eager villages 
from Burford to Gloucester, from Gloucester to Ross, 
from Ross to Monmouth, Caermarthen and Milford, 
from Milford to Swansea, from Swansea to Cardiff, 
were thronged with stentorian admirers. On the re- 
turn journey, from Cardiff to Newport and Chepstow, 
and so to Monmouth again, on to Hereford, Leomin- 
ster, Tenbury, Worcester, Birmingham, Warwick, 
Coventry, Dunstable, Watford, and Brentford, all 
turned out like one man to cheer the postilioned car- 
riages. Bells were rung, factories and theatres vis- 
ited, addresses read, speeches made, the National 
Anthem and " Rule Britannia " sung by the shouting 
crowds. Wherever they went, the neighbouring mag- 
nates loaded Nelson and his friends with invitations, 
and Payne-Knight implored Emma for a visit. And 
everywhere this exuberant daughter of democracy led 



392 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

and swelled the chorus. Her Nelson should " be first." 
" Hip, hip, hip ! " " God Save the King ! " " Long 
live Nelson, Britain's Pride ! " 



; Join we great Nelson's name 
First on the roll of fame, 

Him let us sing; 
Spread we his praise around, 
Honour of British ground, 
Who made Nile's shores resound-* 

God save the King ! " 



It was Naples over again, and Emma was in her 
true element. Let the whole official brotherhood look 
to themselves and dare their worst. They were routed 
now. The people were on the side of those who had 
toiled hard, of those who had really borne the brunt, 
who had risked their lives to save their homes from the 
bogey of Europe. " Hip, hip, hip, in excelsis! " No 
wonder that, when all was over and, hoarse but happy, 
Emma reposed at Merton once more, awaiting a fresh 
but private jubilation on Nelson's approaching birth- 
day, she took up her pen with triumph : — 

" We have had a most charming Tour which will 
Burst some of them. So let all the enimies of the 
greatest man alive [perish?] ! And bless his 
friends." In this same letter her native goodness of 
heart breaks out with equal vehemence about the death 
of " poor Dod," one of Nelson's countless proteges : 
" Anything that we can do to assist the poor widow 
we will." How this " we " reminds us of the " we " 
before Sir William married her, which had so an- 
noyed Legge ! And the sensation of this progress still 
tingled in the air. In October Lord Lansdowne 
begged in vain for a visit, should they stay again at 
Fonthill. While Banks sympathised with Greville's 
sigh of relief, Ball told Emma of his interest, smiled 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 393 

over her huzzaings, and recalled her kindness to the 
Maltese Deputies. Her enthusiasm was still con- 
tagious. 

But this trip did not close without a conjugal breeze 
easily raised and easily calmed. 

Emma insisted on recruiting her health by her old 
remedy of sea-baths, probably at Swansea; Hamilton, 
however, longed to get home. He was exhausted, and 
she was petulant, as the following little passage at arms 
bears witness : — 

" As I see it is pain to you to remain here, let me 
beg of you to fix your time for going. Weather I dye 
in Piccadilly or any other spot in England, 'tis the same 
to me; but I remember the time when you wished for 
tranquillity, but now all visiting and bustle is your 
liking. However, I will do what you please, being ever 
your affectionate and obedient E. H." On the back of 
it Sir William wrote : — 

" I neither love bustle nor great company, but I like 
some employment and diversion. ... I am in no 
hurry, and am exceedingly glad to give every satisfac- 
tion to our best friend, our dear Lord Nelson. Sea- 
bathing is usefull to your health; I see it is, and wish 
you to continue a little longer ; but I must confess that 
I regret, whilst the season is favourable, that I cannot 
enjoy my favourite amusement of quiet fishing. I care 
not a pin for the great world, and am attached to no 
one as much as you." On its fly-leaf Emma added, 
" I go, when you tell me the coach is ready," to which 
Hamilton retorted : " This is not a fair answer to a fair 
confession of mine." So ended the last of their tiny 
quarrels. Nestor was reconciled to Penelope. 

The sands of his life were fast running down, and 
he was soon to have that euthanasia which he had 
praised to Nelson. Emma's heart smote her as she 
beheld his fading powers. He suffered no pain, but he 



394 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

gradually sank. He was removed to Piccadilly, and 
by the March of 1803 it was clear that his end was in 
sight. Both Emma and Nelson were constant in their 
attendance and attention. It had been Nelson who, in 
his passionate outpouring, occasionally speculated on 
" my uncle's " demise; but Emma, apart from grati- 
tude and a sense of the wrong that she had done him, 
well knew that his death would remove a real friend 
and a loving counsellor. All the past rose up vividly, 
from the days of the selfishness of Greville, who was 
now again half-hardening himself against her, to 
those of the loving husband who had trusted and 
shielded her. Some feeling of sorrow, compunction, 
and forlornness possessed her. However grievously 
she had erred, she did her duty at the last. And at the 
last the old man's mind had wandered. 

On April 6, 1803, at eleven o'clock, Nelson wrote 
this hurried note to Davison: — 

" Our dear Sir William died at 10 minutes past Ten 
this morning in Lady Hamilton's and my arms without 
a sigh or a struggle. Poor Lady H. is as you may 
expect desolate. I hope she will be left properly, but I 
doubt." 

Greville had once more succeeded. 

Nelson would not so have written if Emma had not 
so felt. His feelings were coloured by hers. Among 
Nelson's papers remains one in Emma's handwriting 
intended for no eye but his, and to which no hypocrisy 
can be imputed : — 

" April 6. — Unhappy day for the forlorn Emma. 
Ten minutes past ten dear blessed Sir William left 
me." 

In all her private answers to condolence the refrain 
is the same — " What a man, what a husband." It can 
scarcely be called falsetto. Not until she had lost him 
did she realise all that he had been to her, and how she 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 395 

had wronged him. Strange as it may sound, she was 
stricken indeed. 

And yet her attitudinising heart soon alternated be- 
tween different moods. She cut off her flowing locks 
and wore them a la Titus in the fashionable mode of 
mourning. When Madame Le Brun met her a few 
months afterwards, she sat down and sang a snatch 
at the piano. On a later occasion the French paintress 
noticed that she had put a rose in her hair, and in- 
quiring the reason, was told, " I have just received a 
letter from Lord Nelson." Later on, she consented to 
oblige Madame Le Brun by privately showing before 
a few of the noblesse cmigree some of her " Atti- 
tudes," which she had never been willing to display in 
London. 

" On the day appointed," notes the artist in her 
chronicle, " I placed in the middle of my drawing- 
room a very large frame, with a screen .on either side 
of it. I had a strong lime-light prepared and disposed, 
so that it could not be seen, but which would light up 
Lady Hamilton as though she were a picture. . . . She 
assumed various attitudes in this frame in a way truly 
admirable. She had brought a little girl with her, 
who might have been seven or eight years old, and who 
resembled her strikingly. One group they made to- 
gether reminded me of Poussin's ' Rape of the Sabines.' 
She changed from grief to joy, and from joy to ter- 
ror, so that we were all enchanted." 

Such a " lime-light," perhaps revealing without be- 
ing seen, was Emma's own organisation unconsciously 
" lighting up " the possibilities of others. Her " At- 
titudes " were the expression of her successive and 
often self-deceiving emotions. In the old Indian mu- 
sic, we are told, are certain selected notes, called 
" ragas," that, separately and without harmonised rela- 
tions, strike whole moods into the heart of the listener. 



396 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Such, it seems to me, was her temperament, and such 
its function. 

Sir William Hamilton was buried by the side of his 
first wife, as he had promised her twenty-five years be- 
fore. 

A month after his decease the will was read in Pic- 
cadilly before the assembled relations — the Grevilles, 
the Cathcarts, the Meyricks, the Abercorns, and the 
rest. Nelson forwarded the announcement to Davison 
by Oliver. He had suggested the advisability of read- 
ing Sir William's deed of gift of the furniture to 
Emma before a full conclave, as it might otherwise " be 
supposed that Mr. C. Greville gives Lady H. the fur- 
niture," which her money had bought for Sir William. 
The will itself proved Nelson's suspicion of Greville's 
influence not altogether unfounded, and the fact 
" vexed " him sorely. Though Hamilton had fore- 
stalled income, his means were ample ; even Elliot was 
astonished at the inadequate provision for his widow. 1 
To his " dear wife Emma " he bequeathed a sum of 
£300, and an annuity of £800, to include provision for 
her mother. In a codicil he recites that as he had 
promised to pay her debts, amounting to £700, but of 
this sum had only paid £250, Greville was to pay her 
in advance the current annuity of £800, for herself and 
Mrs. Cadogan, while the unpaid remainder of her "debts 
she was to recover as a charge upon the arrears of pen- 
sion owed him by the Government. The last arrange- 
ment was nugatory on the face of it. The Government 
that had disregarded Sir William was unlikely to re- 

1 Minto Life and Letters, vol. ii. p. 283. " Worse off than I 
imagined." He adds : " She talked very freely of her situation 
with Nelson, and of the construction the world may have put 
upon it, but protested that her attachment was perfectly pure 
which I can believe, though I declare it is of no consequence 
whether it is so or not." Maria Carolina also deplored her "in- 
different provision." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 397 

gard his widow. It is but just towards Greville, who 
had been always at his uncle's elbow, to relate that 
within a week of Sir William's demise he urged his 
dying wishes on the then Foreign Secretary in the 
strongest terms, while at the same time he repeated 
his (Hamilton's) previous strictures on the Govern- 
ment's past treatment. " I know," he concluded, " that 
the records of your office confirm the testimony of their 
Sicilian Majesties by letter as well as by their Min- 
isters of circumstances peculiarly distinguished and 
honourable to her, and at the same time of high im- 
portance to the public service." But Emma was thus 
left with no capital except the furniture, of uncertain 
value, and with an income diminished by a debt which 
her husband had promised to discharge, but of which 
only one-quarter had been settled. Greville and his 
brother, the Colonel, were declared executors, the first 
being residuary legatee. To Nelson he gave an enamel 
of Emma "asa very small token of the great regard I 
have for his lordship, the most virtuous, loyal, and 
truly brave character I ever met with. God bless him, 
and shame fall on all those who do not say Amen." 

This avowal does Hamilton honour. Poor Nestor! 
— however reluctant his submission, whatever his mis- 
givings, he steeled himself against them to the last. 
I do not think that Hamilton was wholly befooled, but 
how could the Nelson that he loved reconcile to his 
conscience such tributes of trust from one whom he 
had long cherished with more than esteem? He and 
Emma must both have felt a pang of shame and re- 
morse. They had skated on thin ice together. Though 
their duplicity, uncongenial to the frankness of both, 
had been imposed on them by their united care for each 
other's interest, and Horatia's, it had also imposed upon 
others. Bearing in mind every extenuation, one would 
fain forget this unlovely spectacle; apart from extenu- 



398 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

ation it is hideous. Their falsity towards Hamilton 
cannot be condoned. Their sin had impaired Emma's 
sense, and Nelson's principle, of truth. 

Neither of them lost time in besetting the authorities 
for a grant both of pension and of compensation which 
might clear her of debt. To Addington she wrote her- 
self. She was " forced to petition." She was " most 
sadly bereaved." She was now " in circumstances far 
below those in which the goodness " of her " dear Sir 
William " allowed her " to move for so many years." 
She pleaded for his thirty-six years' efforts for Eng- 
land at Naples. " And may I mention," she added, in 
words to be carefully scanned as the first expression 
of her claims, " what is well known to the then ad- 
ministration at home — how I too strove to do all I 
could towards the service of our King and Country. 
The fleet itself, I can truly say, could not have got into 
'Sicily but for what I was happily able to do with the 
Queen of Naples (and through her secret instructions 
so obtained), on which depended the refitting of the 
fleet in Sicily, and with that, all which followed so 
gloriously at the Nile. These few words, though 
seemingly much at large, may not be extravagant at all. 
They are, indeed, true. I wish them to be heard only 
as they can be proved ; and being proved, may I hope 
for what I have now desired." Addington professed 
to Lord Melville, who spoke to him on the matter, that 
he would give the whole circumstances a favourable 
consideration. But Nelson from the first counted little 
on his assistance, though of Pitt, for the moment, he 
seemed rather more sanguine. 

But already, amid all these agitations, the supreme 
one of renewed severance from Nelson threatened. He 
had always prophesied that the truce of Amiens would 
not endure. In May Napoleon divined the safe mo- 
ment for breaking it. Russia was then friendly, and 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 399 

Austria hesitating. It was not till the following year, 
when his murder of the Due d'Enghien scandalised Eu- 
rope, that Russia contrived the third coalition, which 
Prussia and Austria joined. Napoleon now prepared 
to invade Naples : his troops were soon to occupy Han- 
over. Our Ambassador, Lord Whitworth, was recalled 
from Paris. Maria Carolina assured Emma of her 
delight at the prospect of Nelson's renewed Medi- 
terranean command, and Acton, who had by now as- 
sumed the superintendence of Bronte, looked forward 
to seeing his old associate once more. 

Death, doubt, and despair confronted Emma to- 
gether, but she did not quail. Her faults were many, 
but cowardice was never one of them. Her hero 
would win fresh victories and once more save his 
country. She little recked how long that absence was 
to last. For the first time he had been with her for 
eighteen months, imparted. 

A wedding and a christening signalised the month 
of his departure, and showed Nelson and Emma to- 
gether in public. 

In May, at the Clarges Street house, to which Emma 
had then been forced to remove, Captain Sir William 
Bolton married his cousin, the daughter of Nelson's 
sister and Emma's friend, Mrs. Thomas Bolton. 
Emma was afterwards to be godmother to their first- 
born, " Emma Horatia." Sir William, for whose pro- 
motion Nelson always exerted himself, proved some- 
what of a booby, to Nelson's amused chagrin. 

And three days before he said farewell, Horatia was 
baptized in the same Marylebone church which had wit- 
nessed her mother's marriage. The nurse had already 
brought the two years old child from time to time to 
see them at Merton. Nelson and Emma stood by the 
font as god-parents of their own child, and two clergy- 
men officiated at the christening of " Horatia Nelson 



400 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Thomson." Now, at least, she might soon find her 
home at Merton. Nelson gave her a silver cup, a cup 
by which hangs a sad tale, and which, years afterwards, 
had to be sacrificed to poverty. 

Greville hardly behaved well. He harshly denied 
her a moment longer than the end of April in the Pic- 
cadilly house. She applied to him, in the third per- 
son, to ascertain the precise limit of her stay, as she 
must " look out for lodgings " and " reduce her ex- 
penses." Nelson, however, now resolved to allow her 
£100 a month for the upkeep of Merton, but unfor- 
tunately, though mainly residing at her " farm," she 
could not refrain from still renting a smaller town 
house in Clarges Stree,.. 

An altercation ensued, it is said, between Nelson 
and Greville. At any rate, Greville's continued hard- 
ness towards Emma, soon to be accentuated by his de- 
duction of the income-tax from her annuity, evoked 
the following from Nelson more than two years after- 
wards : — 

" Mr. Greville is a shabby fellow. It never could 
have been the intention of Sir William but that you 
should have had seven hundred pounds a year neat 
money. ... It may be law, but it is not just, nor in 
equity would, I believe, be considered as the will and in- 
tention of Sir William. Never mind! Thank God, 
you do not want any of his kindness ; nor will he give 
you justice." 

At four o'clock on the morning of May 18, the post- 
chaise drew up before Merton Place : only one trunk 
was in it. Before any one was astir, Nelson had bid- 
den his passionate adieu, and had driven off with the 
dawn. From Kingston, on his road, he despatched 
the familiar line of consolation: — 

" Cheer up, my dearest Emma, and be assured that 
I ever have been, and am and ever will be, your most 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 401 

faithful and affectionate." He had hardly reached his 
destination when he resumed : " Either my ideas are 
altered, or Portsmouth. ... It is a place, the picture 
of desolation and misery, but perhaps it is the con- 
trast to what I have been used to. . . . When you see 
my Sieve, which you will when you receive this letter, 
give her a kiss from me, and tell her that I never shall 
forget either her or her dear good mother." Two 
days later he again gave comfort from the Victory : — 
" You will believe that although I am glad to leave 
that horrid place Portsmouth, yet the being afloat 
makes me now feel that we do not tread the same ele- 
ment. I feel from my soul that God is good, and in 
His due wisdom will unite us. Only, when you look 
upon our dear child, call to your remembrance all that 
you think I would say, was I present. And be as- 
sured that I am thinking of you every moment. My 
heart is full to bursting. May God Almighty bless 
you is the fervent prayer of, my dear beloved Emma, 
your most faithful, affectionate Nelson." 

The old trio had been dissolved, and a new trio 
reigned in its stead. Horatia now sanctified his ex- 
istence, her portrait already adorned his cabin. Emma 
becomes Calypso no more, but Penelope — a Penelope, 
moreover, with repulsed suitors. On Greville's life — 
even on Hamilton's — she had been but an iridescence, 
but to Nelson she is light, air, and heat in one; and 
what she was to him, that Nelson remains to her in 
perpetuity. 



CHAPTER XIII 

PENELOPE AND ULYSSES 

June, 1803 — January, 1806 

IT is a far cry from Merton to the Mediterranean, 
but for Nelson the one was nearly as important as 
the other: the heart of Ulysses was with his 
Penelope. 

Estranged Greville straightway took up his uncle's 
mantle, exchanging learned disquisitions with Banks 
about " mud volcanoes in Trinidad." Davison was 
trying to curb Emma's extravagant schemes for Mer- 
ton improvements, though he himself was now in elec- 
tion scrapes, and a few years later was, unfortunately, 
to rival St. George himself as a fraudulent contractor. 
Penelope (fretted and ailing), whether at Merton, 
Southend, Clarges Street, or Canterbury, by turns 
with the Matchams, Boltons, or Nelsons, sent daily 
reports to her wandering Ulysses. She tattled alike 
of her conflicting emotions, of the dukes and princes, 
her suitors, and of her exertions to secure berths for 
countless applicants. All Nelson's nephews and nieces 
constantly found themselves a happy family under her 
roof, and Merton was now Merton Academy for 
Charlotte. Strange as it seems, Emma's relations 
and Nelson's were on affectionate and equal terms, her 
cousin, Sarah Connor, being now governess to the Bol- 
ton children, while Mrs. Matcham, Nelson's pet sister, 
actually wished to find a new house near Merton. 
" Our good Mrs. Cadogan," too, was beloved by his 

402 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 403 

family and his friends, whom she provided from the 
dairy. She was the Merton economist, kept all too 
busy checking the accounts of the rapacious Cribb. 1 
Such was Penelope's chronicle. 

Nelson had only three thoughts — Emma, Horatia. 
and the French fleet. During the next three years, 
whether at Gibraltar or Naples, Toulon or, afterwards, 
La Rosas, and eventually off Boulogne, he mused on 
these, and these alone, by day; he dreamed of them 
at night; they possessed him in fierce concentration. 
He was an inspired monomaniac, and the flame of his 
fanaticism both burnt and fired him to achievement. 
Different kinds of self- forgetful ardour animate every 
prophet. Adoration of his country, a woman, and a 
child, animated Nelson. In this he contrasts with 
all his colleagues and predecessors, who did their duty 
like stolid Spartans, unwarmed and unenticed by any 
dangerous glow. To the sober-minded; Emma is his 
will-of-the-wisp; to him, she was his beacon. He 
calls her his " Alpha and Omega " ; he beseeches her 
not to fret. Her and the French fleet — " to these two 
objects tend all his thoughts, plans, and toils," and he 
will " embrace them so close " when he " can lay hold 
of either the one or the other, that the devil himself 
should not separate " them. He longed " to see both " 
in their " proper places " — the one at sea, the other " at 
dear Merton, which, in every sense of the word," he 
expects " to find a paradise." He still deemed none 
worthy " to wipe her shoes." He vowed not to quit 
his ship till they could meet again. " From Ambas- 
satrice to the duties of domestic life " he has never 
seen her equal; her "elegance, . . . accomplishments, 
and, above all, goodness of heart," are " unparalleled," 

1 He was a sort of steward at Merton, but he also supplied 
the green-groceries. He encouraged the extravagant expense of 
the Merton improvements. 



404 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

and he is devoted to her " for ever and beyond it." 
Eagerly he treasured the slenderest tidings of her from 
officers returning to or from England. 

Each night, as Scott, his chaplain — Scott, with his 
lightning-struck head — relates to Emma, he toasted 
their Guardian Angel, with a tender look towards her 
portrait, and a side glance, doubtless, at the smiling 
face of the child below it. To Horatia he addressed 
the first whole letter that he had written to her. He 
bought her a gold watch through Falconet of Naples, 
and forwarded it as a reminder of her liking to listen 
to his own; he sent her a pretty picture-book of" Span- 
ish dresses," bidding her be always good and obedient 
to her " Guardian Angel, Lady Hamilton." When, 
for the second time, he ensured such a settlement for 
Horatia's future as no imprudence could undo, he com- 
mended " the dear little innocent " to Emma, as certain 
to train her in the paths of religion and virtue. 
Emma's every concern interested him. In her letters 
he finds the " knack " of hitting off and picturing topics 
to a marvel. Over her cousin, Charles Connor, now a 
midshipman under his charge, he watched like a 
father. As he passed Capri, recollection " almost over- 
powers " his feelings. He enclosed for her the new en- 
treaties of her old friends the King and Queen of 
Naples, while she transmitted to him Maria Carolina's 
letter to her, protesting the usual sympathy and grati- 
tude. Amid his many engrossments he followed the 
projected improvements at Merton as if he were there 
— the new rooms and porch, the new road, the dike to 
fill up a part of the " Nile," the surrender of a strip to 
" Mr. Bennett, which will save £50 a year," the ac- 
quirement of another field, the " strong netting " to 
surround the rivulet for little Horatia's safety. Davi- 
son had remonstrated over the expense ; Nelson directed 
him to proceed. He expressly enjoined her — a fact 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 405 

afterwards important — not to pay for them out of her 
income. He little guessed what a millstone she was 
hanging round her neck; she was right to have her 
way; all was right always that she did, wrote, or 
thought. He commended her to Davison's tenderest 
care. He chose her presents of shawls and chains 
from Naples. He recovered some of her lost furni- 
ture both at Malta and Palermo. He enclosed £100 — » 
for herself and the poor at Merton, together with gifts 
to Miss Connor, Mrs. Cadogan, and Charlotte, " a 
trifling remembrance from me, whose whole soul is at 
Merton"; and her "good mother" is always sure of 
his " sincerest regard." 

Emma's heart, too, was across the sea. She 
watched every wind, chance, and disappointment. 
When at Southend, where she met her old friend Jane 
Powell, the actress, she thought of little but Nelson 
and Horatia. She was in ill health; but she was still 
" patroness of the navy," forwarding each officer's re- 
quests to, and his interest with, her Nelson. If she 
diverted herself with concerts, or teased her ogling 
suitors, at the same time she begged Davison to intro- 
duce her to Nepean, for her hero's sake. She kept the 
" glorious first of August " with her friends, and only 
regretted that the Abbe Campbell must be absent. She 
looked anxiously for letters, — " despatches and sea 
breezes will restore you," wrote Mrs. Bolton. She 
bought and sent off his very boots — a size, it would 
seem, too small. He has warned her never to spend 
fier money " to please a pack of fools," nor to let her 
native generosity empty her purse even for his sisters, 
as she so often did; not to hunt for a legacy from 
" Old Q." — Nelson (repeating her own phrase) 
" would not give sixpence to call the King my uncle." 
He regretted Addington's hard-heartedness in begrudg- 
ing her an annuity, but Addington's tether was fast 



406 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

coming to an end. He got the Queen to address the 
Government on Emma's behalf, though he placed little 
reliance on the letter's efficacy or her friendship. 
When, nearly eighteen months later, he was baulked, 
as he usually was, of his prize-money, Emma char- 
acteristically wrote to Davison : — " The Polyphemus 
should have been Nelson's, but he is rich in great and 
noble deeds, which t'other, poor devil, is not. So let 
dirty wretches get pelf to comfort them : victory be- 
longs to Nelson. Not but what I think money neces- 
sary for comforts ; and I hope our, yours, and my Nel- 
son will get a little, for all Master O." 1 How well 
does this accord with Nelson's own avowal to her of 
" honourable poverty " ! "I have often said, and with 
honest pride, what I have is my own ; it never cost the 
widow a tear or the nation a farthing. I got what 
I have with my pure blood from the enemies of my 
country. Our house, my own Emma, is built upon a 
solid foundation." 

In September, so wretched was she away from him, 
that she implored him to let her come out and see him. 
" Good sense," he replied, " is obliged to give way to 
what is right, and I verily believe that I am more likely 
to be happy with you at Merton than any other place, 
and that our meeting at Merton is more probable to 
happen sooner than any wild chase in the Mediter- 
ranean." " It would kill you," he repeated, " and my- 
self to see you. Much less possible, to have Charlotte, 
Horatia, etc., on board ship." And as for living in 
Italy, " that is entirely out of the question. Nobody 
cares for us there " : it would cost him a fortune to go 
to Bronte, and be " tormented " out of his life. In- 
deed at this very moment he had serious thoughts of re- 
linquishing Bronte altogether. 

Nelson was never self-indulgent; he was unselfish, 
1 Sir John Orde. This letter is of January, 1805. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 407 

if not selfless, in devotion, even where he went most 
astray. Under dispiritments innumerable, and morti- 
fications doubly galling to one of his temperament, 
through a catalogue of hardships which rival the 
apostle's, in weary wakefulness, in headache, eye-ache, 
toothache, and heartache, constantly sea-sick in the 
newly painted cabins which he abhorred, with a body, 
as he said, unequal to his spirit, he was always think- 
ing of and caring for others; and it is this that endears 
him to us even more than his glory. At this very time 
he bade Emma do her utmost for General Dumouriez, 
the brave enemy turned into a friend — their friend; 
not a sailor in the service but was proud of one of his 

"... nameless, unremembered acts 
Of kindness and of love," 

and his considerate maintenance of their health was his 
perpetual boast. 

There was, moreover, something daemonic about this 
wonderful man. At a glance he sweeps the horizon, 
intuitively discerning the danger and its preventives. 
At Naples once more he renewed the royal gratitude, 
incited Acton, now rapidly falling into disfavour, and 
forecast the French designs at a time when Ferdinand 
wrote to him, " the hand of Providence again weighs 
heavy on us," when the Sicilians themselves, and even 
the Queen, were on the verge of turning towards Na- 
poleon's risen sun, and our old acquaintance Ruffo, now 
ambassador, was off on the wonted wild-goose chase to 
Vienna. As in public, so in private, Nelson seems al- 
ways to hear voices prompting him. He believes in a 
star that will guide him to victory and home. " My 
sight is getting very bad," he wrote, " but I must not 
be sick till after the French fleet is taken," at the very 
moment when it seemed further off than ever. Small 
wonder that, with such a leader, Davison ejaculated his 



4 o8 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

certainty that sooner or later Buonaparte's Boulogne 
flotilla would " go to old Nick." 

Nelson this autumn retailed all the Neapolitan gos- 
sip for Emma. Napoleon had dictated to Maria Caro- 
lina the dismissal of her ex- favourite, Acton. She her- 
self, surrounded by French minions, had relapsed into 
the peccadillos of a date prior to Emma's arrival, of 
which Acton used to tell them such amazing stories. 
The King had thrown the last shred of love for her to 
the winds. It would not be long before Napoleon 
pounced on and annexed Naples; before the royalties 
were once more exiles in Sicily. The Princess Bel- 
monte was mischief-making in London, and Emma 
must be careful of encountering her. All Sir Will- 
iam's old dependants were cared for; one of his ser- 
vitors, Gaetano, was already in Nelson's service, and 
preferred it to home. Hugh Elliot was now ambas- 
sador, friendly to Emma's claims. One of the Ham- 
iltons' old abodes had become an hotel. Their ancient 
friend, Lord Bristol, was dead at Rome. He had once 
promised them the bequest of a table, but now, " There 
will be no Lord Bristol's table. He tore his last will 
a few hours before his death." 

These are trifles, but before reverting to Emma, let 
us rapidly glance at Nelson's doings during this year 
of 1804, during his tedious task of guarding the Medi- 
terranean and watching Toulon ("blockading" he 
would never term it: he hated blockades). He was 
endeavouring to decoy the French to sea — to " put salt 
on their tails," but save for a brief spurt in May, en- 
deavouring in vain. As the French fleet was " in and 
out," so he was up and down — at Malta, Palermo, and 
when Spain rejoined the fray, at Barcelona, where the 
Quaker merchant " Friend Gaynor " became a fresh 
intermediary with Emma. His " time," as he said, 
"and movements depended on Buonaparte." Impa- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 409 

tient by nature, he could play the waiting game to per- 
fection. Though his cough and swelled side continu- 
ally troubled him, he was as indefatigable out of action 
as in it, and he disdained the mean advantage offered 
by any subordinate's breach of strict neutrality. He 
still hoped to force those unconscionable ships out of 
port. Treville was now the Toulon Admiral, and 
Nelson " owed him one " for landing the Grenadiers at 
Naples in 1792. Amid the discouragements of long 
delays and the customary official threat to supplant 
him, he could look forward to eating " his Christmas 
dinner at Merton." Although, when his birthday came 
round, he was farther off from consummation than 
ever, and reminded Emma of his " forty-six years of 
toil and trouble," he refused to appear downcast. The 
accession of Pitt to power in the spring of 1804 cheered 
him, both on England's account and hers. He still reg- 
ularly drank her health and " darling " H.oratia's. Her 
letters still brought before him the tranquillity of their 
days; he rejoiced in her many acts of kindness, not 
only to his friends and relations, but to grateful 
strangers. He welcomed a tress of her beautiful hair, 
and treated it as a pilgrim does a relic. Even while 
he sat signing orders, he wrote to her, " My life, my 
soul, God in heaven bless you." He remembered the 
birthday of the " dear beloved woman " with emphasis. 
He instructed her to buy pieces of plate for their new 
and joint god-children. Even in his wrath at the cap- 
ture of a vessel bringing her portrait and letters, he 
made merry over the admiration of them by the French 
Consul at Barcelona. 

While Emma was occupied with Horatia and her 
young charges from Norfolk, all had suddenly to be 
dismissed. Nelson's second daughter, " Emma," was 
born may be at the close of February. The reader will 



410 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

recall Nelson's torrent of passionate love and anxiety 
in the ebullition cited 1 as applicable to his feelings at 
the time of Horatia's birth. At this very moment 
Horatia was unwell also, and her illness added to his 
" raging fever " of emotion as he awaited Emma's 
news. Before July, the second infant of his hopes was 
dead. Thorns there were besides roses at Merton. 

All this while the correspondence of the Boltons and 
Matchams, both young and old, with Lady Hamilton, 
breathes affectionate regard, unfeigned admiration, and 
real respect. She is the best of friends; her coming 
is eagerly awaited, her going keenly deplored. Eliza 
and Anne Bolton find in her a confidante, a trusted and 
trustworthy counsellor, the acme of the accomplish- 
ments that she knows how to impart to them. With 
the William Nelsons it was the same, though here, per- 
haps, the motives were less disinterested. Charlotte 
adores her benefactress and educatress. As for the 
Navy, Louis and others, in their letters, look up to her 
almost with veneration. If Emma had the power of 
offending, that also of conciliating was hers. These 
are facts which cannot be wholly ascribed to the exag- 
gerations of homely admirers, or to the self-interest of 
office-seekers. These people seem, none of them, ever 
to have relinquished their fondness. 

Nothing can exceed the variety of contrasts in a na- 
ture to which it lends fascination. Emma's tissue is 
spangled homespun, but the spangles mainly overlie it. 
Let us examine it on both sides. 

We watch her throughout these letters, on the one 
hand, simple, homely, sympathetic, with no good or 
humble office beneath her, working in and for her 
house and her friends; a Lady Bountiful dignifying 
the trivial round, and generous not only with her purse 
but with her time, her praise, and her exertions — a true 
*Cf. chapter xi. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 411 

Penelope by her spinning-wheel. And yet, on the other 
hand, we view her inhaling the fumes of homage, 
whether from the suitors or the crowd. We see her 
courting the flutter of Bohemia, while she cherishes her 
household gods, and hugging flattery though she has a 
keen scent for the flatterer. In like manner she bor- 
rows with far less consideration than she gives; nor 
does debt cause her a pang until its consequences are in 
sight. To the end she remains far more lavish to her 
lowliest kinsfolk and associates than to herself, while 
she conceals her unsparing generosity quite as much as 
her waste. So far from " affecting to be unaffected " 
— that " sham simplicity which is a refined imposture " 
— she rather affects affectation, whether from whim or 
in self-defence. Devoid of the petty vanities of 
fashion, she is vain of her power. Tender in excess to 
her friends, to her foes she can be overbearing. En- 
joying the recognition of rank, of her own kindred she 
is proud ; and if she is not gentle, she is never genteel, 
though in her flush of pride at the royal licence to wear 
her Maltese honours, she can stoop to bid Heralds' 
College invent the " arms of Lyons." Lyon's arms, 
forsooth ! Had her blacksmith father but known of 
this, surely he would have thrown up his own brawny 
arms in astonishment. Compassionate and sensitive, 
to such as thwart or suspect her she can be coarse and 
obdurate. Natural and outspoken to a fault, she is 
unscrupulous wherever her connection with Nelson is 
concerned, in double-speaking and double-dealing. 
Piquing flirtation, to Nelson she abides steadfast as a 
rock. When least virtuous, she never loses a sense 
of and reverence for virtue. A tender, if unwise, 
mother, her moods drive her into outbursts with the 
child she adores. Big schemes of expenditure always 
allure her ; to little economies she attends, and she will 
squander by mismanagement in the mass what her man- 



4 i2 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

agement saves in detail. Constantly ailing, she is al- 
ways energetic, but though never idle, she is often in- 
dolent. Passionate and even stormy, she battles hard 
with a temperament which repeatedly masters her. 
She is at once home-loving and pleasure-loving, care- 
ful and careless, sensible and silly, kind and cruel, mod- 
est and unblushing, calm and petulant, natural and arti- 
ficial; and through all these phases runs the thread of 
individuality, of self-consciousness, of independence, of 
insurgent and infectious courage and enthusiasm. 

The letters speak for themselves. Little Miss 
Matcham, at " Pappa's " request, indited a prim little 
note to her dearest Lady Hamilton. Miss Anne Bol- 
ton, often at loggerheads with her morbid sister Eliza, 
wrote to her at Ramsgate, where she was recruiting her 
health with Charlotte and Mrs. William Nelson : — 

" I would have thanked you sooner for the few af- 
fectionate lines you sent me by Bowen, tho' indeed the 
life we lead is so uniformly quiet, that tho' we are per- 
fectly happy and comfortable, it is very unfavourable 
to letter writing. ... It gives me much pleasure to 
find that Miss Connor is not to come into Norfolk, till 
you go. I should not know what to do without her. 
She is so companionable to me, who, you know, would 
have none without her, for Eliza, when most agreeable, 
I consider as nothing, and my father is very much in 
town. She is so good, she seems quite contented with 
the very retired life we lead. We have got our instru- 
ment, which, with books and work, form our whole 
amusement. Sometimes, by way of variety, we have 
the old woman come down, who behaves extremely well 
and is become quite attached to Miss Connor. Some- 
times we sing to her till the poor thing sheds tears, and 
we are obliged to leave off. I am glad I have got over 
the horror I once felt in her presence, because it is in 
my power, the short time I am here, to contribute a 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 413 

little to her comfort. We have beautiful walks in this 
neighbourhood, which Miss Connor and I enjoy, and 
you, dearest Lady Hamilton, are often the subject of 
our conversation. I live in the pleasing hope of see- 
ing you once more, before we begin our journey, which 
will not be till the 22nd of August. But possibly, as 
you are so well and happy, you may prolong your stay 
at Ramsgate. I was delighted at the account Bowen 
gave me of you. I made him talk for an hour about 
you, and, indeed, to do him justice, he seemed as fond 
of the subject as myself. And thank you for the 
darling pin-cushion, which is treasured up, and only 
taken out occasionally to be kissed. A few nights ago 
I had an alarming attack of the same complaint which 
was very near killing me a year and a half ago. I 
fainted away and terrified them all. Eliza declares 
she began to consider what she could do. without me. 
Thank God, and my father's skill, I am again well. 
Pray write to me; if it is but such a little scrap as I 
have hitherto had from you, I shall be content. How 
often we long to have a peep at you. . . . Miss Con- 
nor arid Eliza desire their best love to you, as would 
daddy, were he at home. God bless you, most dear 
Lady Hamilton. . . ." Eliza Bolton, who at Merton 
had learned music from Emma and Mrs. Billington, 
also reports her own progress. 

Nor, meanwhile, in Clarges Street, did Emma neg- 
lect the interests of the Boltons. For Tom, she 
solicited Nelson's cautious and official friend George 
Rose, already busied over her own suit with the new 
Ministry : — " It will make Nelson happy," she tells 
him; " I hope you will call on me when you come to 
town, and I promise you not to bore you with my own 
claims, for if those that have power will not do me 
justice, I must be quiet. And in revenge to them, I 
can say, if ever I am a Minister's wife again with the 



4 i4 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

power I had then, why, I will again do the same for 
my country as I did before. And I did more than any 
Ambassador ever did, though their pockets were filled 
with secret service money, and poor Sir William and 
myself never got even a pat on the back. But indeed 
the cold-hearted Grenville was in then." She adds that 
Pitt would do her justice if he could hear her story: 
she calls him " the Nelson of Ministers." 

When Emma proposed spending the ist of August 
with the Nelsons at Canterbury, Nelson, during a fresh 
scare of French invasion, evinced playful anxiety at 
her neighbourhood to the French coast. But the ist 
of August was always her fete. She begged her con- 
stant and learned ally, Dr. Fisher, to join their " turtle 
and venison." " I wish," she concludes, " you would 
give heed unto us, and hear us, and let our prayers pre- 
vail." Doubtless the long, thin beakers and pink cham- 
pagne of our ancestors were brought out at Canter- 
bury to celebrate the anniversary of the Nile, while 
" Reverend Doctor " bowed his best, and Emma raised 
the glass with a tirade in honour of the distant hero. 
It was not the French fleet that interrupted this festiv- 
ity: a worse epidemic than invasion was abroad — that 
of smallpox. Poor little Horatia caught the disease, 
though lightly, and Emma was in great distress. Nel- 
son's anxiety was as keen : — " My beloved," he wrote, 
" how I feel for your situation and that of our dear 
Horatia, our dear child. Unexampled love never, I 
trust, to be diminished, never : no, even death with all 
his terrors would be jubilant compared even to the 
thought. I wish I had all the small-pox for her, but 
I know the fever is a natural consequence. Give Mrs. 
Gibson a guinea for me, and I will repay you. Dear 
wife, good, adorable friend, how I love you, and 
what would I not give to be with you at this moment, 
for I am for ever all yours." Relieved by better ac- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 415 

counts, he sighed for long years of undivided union 
— " the thought of such bliss delights me " — " we shall 
not want with prudence." 

Horatia could at last be " fixed " at Merton, to his 
intense delight, though she was not definitely installed 
there till about May of the next year. Nelson now 
despatched to Emma a strange announcement, evi- 
dently designed as a circular note of explanation for 
the enlightenment of over-curious acquaintances. It 
bears date Victory, August 13, 1804: — " I am now go- 
ing to state a thing to you, and to request your kind as- 
sistance, which, from my dear Emma's goodness of 
heart, I am sure of her acquiescence in. Before we 
left Italy, I told you of the extraordinary circumstance 
of a child being left to my care and protection. On 
your first coming to England, I presented you the child, 
dear Horatia. You became, to my comfort, attached 
to it, so did Sir William, thinking her the finest child 
he had ever seen. She is become of that age when 
it is necessary to remove her from a mere nurse, and 
to think of educating her. Horatia is by no means 
destitute of a fortune. My earnest wish is that you 
would take her to Merton, and if Miss Connor will 
become her tutoress under your eye, I shall be made 
happy. I will allow Miss Connor any salary you may 
think proper. I know Charlotte loves the child, and 
therefore at Merton she will imbibe nothing but virtue, 
goodness, and elegance of manners, with a good educa- 
tion to fit her to move in that sphere of life which 
she is destined to move in." Not long afterwards he 
added that his dearest wish was that Horatio Nelson 
when he grew up, " if he behaves," should wed Horatia, 
and thus establish his posterity on Emma's foundation 
as well as his brother's, and this wish he embodied in 
one of his numerous wills. 

In these mysteries of melodrama it is impossible not 



4i6 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

to discern Emma's handiwork. As a girl she had de- 
voured romances and been thrilled by the strokes and 
stratagems of the theatre. The same leaning that had 
prompted the secret passage episode at Naples, 
prompted this also; and from her Nelson caught the 
pleasures of mystification. Nor can impartiality ac- 
quit her of planting some of her relatives on Nelson's 
bounty. Sarah Connor's salary is one instance; 
Charles Connor's naval cadetship is another. At this 
very time the youth, who was to end in madness, was 
discoursing to " her Ladyship " of Nelson's " un- 
bounded kindness." It is true that the unworthier 
members of this family, especially Charles and Cecilia, 
took advantage of Emma to the close, and that she had 
to support all of them, including their parents ; but it is 
also true that Nelson's charities temporarily lightened 
her burdens. 

Nelson was now nearing the end of his Mediter- 
ranean vigil. The King and Queen of Naples 
despaired at his departure. Acton, in disgrace, had 
thoughts of taking his new wife to England. Nelson 
had tarried long enough in the scenes of his memories. 
" Nothing, indeed," he tells his " dearest Emma," " can 
be more miserable and unhappy than her poor Nelson." 
From February 19, 1805, he had been " beating " from 
Malta to off Palma, where he was now anchored. He 
could not help himself; none in the fleet could " feel " 
what he did; and, "to mend his fate," since the close 
of November all his letters had gone astray, and he 
was without even the solace of news. 

And yet his energy was never more indispensable 
than at this moment. The French strained every nerve 
to meet the renewed vigour which characterised Pitt's 
brief and final accession to power. Directing their 
fleet to the West Indies, they hoped to strike Britain 
where she was most vulnerable, her colonies. Eight 



EMMX, LftDY HAMILTON 417 

months' strenuous activity dejected but could not sub- 
jugate Nelson. " I never did," he assured Davison, 
" or ever shall desert the service of my country, but 
what can I do more than swim till I drop? If I take 
some little care of myself, I may yet live fit for some 
good service." He was dying to catch Villeneuve. 
Irritated at the command of Sir John Orde, destitute of 
" any prize-money worthy of the name," he could still 
waft his thoughts and wishes beyond the waves. It 
was not only each movement at Merton that he fol- 
lowed; he cared for poor blind " Mrs. Nelson," while 
he sat beside the sick-bed of many a man in his own 
fleet. Nor did his vigilance concerning each veriest 
trifle that might profit his country ever diminish. 
Scott's descendants still cherish the two black-leathered 
and pocketed armchairs, ensconced in which, night by 
night, Nelson and his secretary waded . through the 
polyglot correspondence, and those " interminable pa- 
pers " which engrossed him. " His own quickness," 
writes one of the latter's grandsons, " in detecting the 
drift of an author was perfectly marvellous. Two or 
three pages of a pamphlet were generally sufficient to 
put him in complete possession of the writer's object, 
and nothing was too trivial for the attention of this 
great man's mind when there existed a possibility of its 
being the means of obtaining information." Nelson 
insisted on examining every document seized in prize- 
ships, and so tiring proved the process that " these 
chairs, with an ottoman that fits between them, formed, 
when lashed together, a couch on which the hero often 
slept those brief slumbers for which he was remark- 
able." At the end of March he heard that the French 
were safe in port. Within three days his fleet was 
equipped and refreshed. He scoured every quarter, 
ransacked every corner, to sight the enemy — in vain. 
Villeneuve had left Toulon to form his junction with 



418 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the Spaniards and effect his great design; Orde retired 
from Cadiz, where the junction was effected. Nelson 
ground his teeth and cursed his luck. By mid-April 
the French were reported as having passed Gibraltar 
with their colours flying. Nelson chased them once 
again, foul winds and heavy swells hampering his 
course. " Nothing," he wrote, " can be more un- 
fortunate than we are in our winds. But God's will 
be done ! I submit. Human exertions are absolutely 
unavailing. What man can do, I have done." Orde's 
remissness in taking no measures for ascertaining their 
course over-exasperated Nelson. At last he heard of 
their East Indiaward direction. Though they outnum- 
bered him greatly in ships, and entirely in men, he 
swore that he would track them " even to the Antip- 
odes." Though, by the opening of May, the elements 
still defied him off Gibraltar, and the linen had been 
actually sent on shore to be washed, while the officers 
and men had landed, their observant commander per- 
ceived some indication of an east wind within twenty- 
four hours. Without hesitation he took the risk of his 
weatherwise observation. " Off went a gun from the 
Victory, and up went the Blue-peter." The crew was 
recalled, " the fleet cleared the gut of Gibraltar, and 
away they steered for the West Indies." He hurried 
with unexampled expedition to Martinique and Bar- 
badoes — thus revisiting, in the last year of his life, the 
two scenes associated respectively with his love and his 
marriage. By the West Indies he was hailed as a de- 
liverer, and it was their joy that first warned the 
French of the approach of the sole commander whom 
they dreaded. Nelson did not stay even to water his 
ships. The shrewd Villeneuve, who had once escaped 
from Egypt, hastened to escape once more, and his 
superior force fled like a hare from Nelson's fury. 
And Emma, meanwhile, was in an agony of sus- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 419 

pense. To the incessant inquiries of Nelson's sisters, 
she could give no answer, for she could glean no news. 
At last letters arrived. He was longing to fly to 
" dear, dear Merton." He dared not enclose one of 
his " little letters," for fear of " sneaking and cut- 
ting," but he published for all to read " that I love 
you beyond any woman in the world, and next our dear 
Horatia." As for her, she paid visits. She threw her- 
self into London distractions — again she sought retire- 
ment. But the hard fact of debt stared in the face 
of all her emotions. Just before her return to Merton, 
her mother wrote to her : " I shall be very glad to see 
you to-morrow, and I think you quite right for going 
into the country to keep yourself quiet for a while. 
My dear Emma, Cribb is quite distrest for money, 
would be glad if you could bring him the £13 that he 
paid for the taxes, to pay the mowers. My dear 
Emma, I have got the baker's and butcher's bills cast 
up; they come to one hundred pounds seventeen shil- 
lings. God Almighty bless you, my dear Emma, and 
grant us good news from our dear Lord. My dear 
Emma, bring me a bottle of ink and a box of wafers. 
Sarah Reynolds thanks you for your goodness to in- 
vite her to Sadler's Wells." 

While Emma lingered, bathing at Southend, Mrs. 
Tyson, returning from a visit to her there, described 
a pleasant day spent at " charming Merton " with 
" dear Mrs. Cadogan " : " She, with Miss Lewold " 
(Emma always left her mother a companion) " did not 
forget to drink my Lord's and your health. Tom Bol- 
ton was of the party. We left them six o'clock, horse- 
back, but, alas! I am got so weak that the ride is too 
much for me. ... I am, my dear Lady Hamilton, 
wishing all the blessings your good and charming dis- 
position should have in this life. . . . Your Ladyship, 
I beg, will pardon this and please give it to Nancy. 

Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 14 



420 EMMS, LADY HAMILTON 

... I will be much obliged to look for a pair of silk 
stockings marked H.S. or only H., as they were given 
me at Bath, changed in the wash. . . . She has been 
very pert about them, and I will not pay her till I hear 
from you." Nor did old sailors forget to show Emma 
their appreciation. Captain Langford brought back 
for her from Africa a crown-bird and a civet cat, which 
must have astonished the Mertonites. 

Far removed from such trivialities Nelson still strug- 
gled to come up with that fleeing but unconquered 
fleet. Once more at Cadiz he gained fresh advices : it 
had been seen off Cape Blanco. He rounded Cape Vin- 
cent, the scene of his earliest triumphs. Collingwood, 
steering for the Straits' mouth, reported Cape Spartel 
in sight; but still no French squadron. Anchored 
again at Gibraltar, Nelson could descry not a trace of 
them. He went ashore, as he recounts, for the first 
time since June 16, 1803, and although it was " two 
years wanting ten days " since he had set foot in the 
Victory, still he would not despair. The French 
destination might be Newfoundland, for aught he 
knew; Ireland, Martinique again, or the Levant; each 
probability had its chance. He searched every point 
of the compass. He inquired of Ireland. He secured 
Cadiz. He sailed off to Tetuan. He reinforced Corn- 
wallis, lest the combined ships should approach Brest. 
At last he heard of Sir Robert Calder's brilliant en- 
counter, but problematic victory, sixty leagues west of 
Cape Finisterre. Pleasure mingled with disappoint- 
ment; at least and at last he was free. On August 17 
he rode off Portland, at noon off the Isle of Wight. He 
anchored at Spithead on the following morning at nine, 
and with a crew in perfect health, despite unfounded 
allegations of the need of quarantine, he landed. 

All his family were gathered at Merton with Emma, 
who had sped from Southend to greet him. The next 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 421 

day saw him in Emma's and Horatia's arms. This 
was his real reward. The society that resented his 
isolation rushed to honour him. London was jubilant. 
Deputations and gratitude poured in on his privacy. 
But, rightly or wrongly, Merton was his Elysium, and 
from Merton he would not budge. 

" Thank God," wrote her lively cousin Sarah to 
Emma the day after his arrival, " he is safe and well. 
Cold water has been trickling down my back ever since 
I heard he was arrived. Oh! say how he looks, and 
talks, and eats, and sleeps. Never was there a man 
come back so enthusiastically revered. Look at the 
ideas that pervade the mind of his fellow-citizens in 
this morning's post. Timid spinsters and widows are 
terrified at his foot being on shore; yet this is the 
man who is to have a Sir R. Calder and a Sir J. Orde 
sent to intercept his well-earned advantages. I hope 
he may never quit his own house again. This was my 
thundering reply last night to a set of cowardly women. 
I have lashed Pitt ... to his idolatrice brawler. I 
send you her letter. The public are indignant at the 
manner Lord Nelson has been treated." Outside his 
family he received friends like the Perrys. With re- 
luctance he acceded to the Prince's command that he 
would give him audience before he went. 

He had not long to remain. On September 13, little 
more than three weeks after his arrival, the Victory 
was at Spithead once more, preparing to receive him. 
Villeneuve must be found, and the sole hope of the 
French at sea shattered. Nelson's " band of broth- 
ers " were to welcome the last trial of the magic " Nel- 
son touch." Emma is said to have chimed with, and 
spurred his resolve for, this final charge. Harrison's 
recital of this story has been doubted, but she herself 
repeated it to Rose at a moment, and in a passage, 
that lend likelihood to sincerity. Moreover, in a strik- 



422 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

ing letter of self-vindication to Mr. A. J. Scott, Nel- 
son's trusted intimate, she thus delivered herself in the 
following year, assuming his own knowledge of the 
fact : — " Did I ever keep him at home, did I not share 
in his glory? Even this last fatal victory, it was I 
bid him go forth. Did he not pat me on the back, call 
me brave Emma, and said, ' If there were more Emmas 
there would be more Nelsons.' " 

Together with his assembled relatives she shrank 
from bidding him adieu on board. One by one all but 
the Matchams departed. On that Friday night of 
early autumn, at half-past ten, the postchaise drew up, 
as he tore himself from the last embraces of Emma 
and Horatia, in whose bedroom he had knelt down and 
solemnly invoked a blessing. George Matcham went 
out to see him off, and his final words were a proffer 
of service to his brother-in-law. At six next morn- 
ing he sent his " God protect you and my dear Hora- 
tia " from the George at Portsmouth. 

A familiar and pathetic excerpt from his letter-book 
bears repetition: — 

Friday, Sept. 13, 1805. 

" Friday night, at half-past ten, drove from dear, 
dear Merton, where I left all that I hold dear in this 
world, to go to serve my King and country. May the 
great God whom I adore enable me to fulfil the expec- 
tations of my country, and if it is His good pleasure 
that I should return, my thanks will never cease being 
offered up to the throne of His mercy. If it is His 
good providence to cut short my days upon earth, I 
bow with the greatest submission, relying that He will 
protect those so dear to me that I may leave behind. 
His will be done. Amen. Amen. Amen." 

The humility of true greatness rings through this 
valediction. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 423 

He seems to have felt some foreboding — and his 
last letters confirm it — that he would never return. 
During the two days on board before he weighed an- 
chor, each moment that could be spared from business 
was devoted to the future of Emma and his child. His 
thoughts travelled in his letters to every cranny of his 
homestead. A few hours after he stepped on deck, 
he asked Rose, come from Cuffnells, to bring Canning 
with him to dinner. Canning was not present when 
Nelson engaged his friend in a parting conversation 
about Bolton's business, and also the prosecution of 
Emma's claims, though she maintained eight years 
later that she understood them to have given their joint 
assurances on her behalf. He purposely embarked 
from the bathing-machine beach to elude the populace. 
To Davison, in sad privacy, while he was off Portland, 
he gave his last mandate for mother and child. He 
twice answered Emma's last heart-broken notes. 
" With God's blessing we shall meet again. Kiss dear 
Horatia a thousand times." — " I cannot even read your 
letter. We have fair wind and God will, I hope, soon 
grant us a happy meeting. We go too swift for the 
boat. May Heaven bless you and Horatia, with all 
those who hold us dear to them. For a short time, 
farewell." The next day, off Plymouth, he entreated 
her to " cheer up," they would look forward to many, 
many happy years," surrounded by their " children's 
children." There are tears, and a sense of tragedy, 
in all these voices. 

Passing the Scilly Islands, three days later, he again 
conveyed his blessings to her and to Horatia. At that 
very time Miss Connor wrote prettily of her young 
charge to Charlotte, whose family the mother had 
joined at Canterbury. " She is looking very well in- 
deed, and is to me a delightful companion. We read 
about twenty times a day, as I do not wish to confine 



424 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

her long at a time. . . . We bought some shoes and 
stockings and a hat for the doll. She is uncommonly 
quick. ... I told her she was invited to see a ship 
launched; every morning she asks if it is to be to-day, 
and wanted to know if there will be any firing of 
guns." How these trifles contrast with the coming 
doom, and lend a silver lining to the dark cloud hang- 
ing over the sailor-father ! Poor child, there was soon 
to be firing of guns enough, and a great soul, as well 
as a ship, was to be launched on a wider ocean. Emma 
forwarded this letter to Nelson : — " I also had one 
from my mother, who doats on her, and says that she 
could not live without her. What a blessing for her 
parents to have such a child, so sweet ; altho' young, so 
amiable. . . . My dear girl writes every day in Miss 
Connor's letter, and I am so pleased with her. My 
heart is broke away from her, but I have now had her 
so long at Merton, that my heart cannot bear to be 
without her. You will be even fonder of her when you 
return. She says, ' I love my dear, dear Godpapa, but 
Mrs. Gibson told me he killed al 1 the people, and I was 
afraid.' Dearest angel she is! Oh! Nelson, how I 
love her, but how do I idolise you, — the dearest hus- 
band of my heart, you are all in this world to your 
Emma. May God send you victory, and home to your 
Emma, Horatia, and paradise Merton, for when you 
are there, it will be paradise. My own Nelson, may 
God preserve you for the sake of your affectionate 
Emma." x 



1 Morrison MS. 844, 845, October 4 and 8 respectively. These 
two letters only escaped destruction because Nelson never lived 
to receive them. In the last Emma also says : " . . . She now 
reads very well, and is learning her notes, and French and 
Italian. The other day she said at table, ' Mrs. Cadoging, I 
wonder Julia [a servant] did not run out of the church when 
she went to be married, for I should, seeing my squinting hus- 
band come in, for . . . how ugly he is, and how he looks 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 425 

It was not for that paradise that Nelson was re- 
served. 

There is no need to recount the glories of Trafalgar. 
Let more competent pens than mine re-describe the 
strategy of the only action in which Nelson ever ap- 
peared without his sword. When he explained to the 
officers " the Nelson touch/' " it was like an electric 
shock. Some shed tears, all approved " ; " it was new, 
it was singular, it was simple." — " And from Admirals 
downwards, it was repeated — it must succeed if ever 
they will allow us to get at them." Again he had been 
stinted in battleships. 

Nelson ascended the poop to view both lines of those 
great ships. He directed the removal of the fixtures 
from his cabin, and when the turn came for Emma's 
portrait, " Take care of my Guardian Angel," he ex- 
claimed. In that cabin he spent his last minutes of re- 
tirement in a prayer committed to his note-book. 
" May the great God whom I worship, grant to my 
country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a 
great and glorious victory; and may no misconduct in 
any one tarnish it, and may humanity after victory be 
the predominant feature in the British fleet ! For my- 
self individually, I commit my life to Him that made 
me, and may His blessing alight on my endeavours for 
serving my country faithfully. To Him I resign my- 
self, and the just cause which is entrusted to me to de- 
fend. Amen. Amen. Amen." 

And then he entrusted to his diary that memorable 
last codicil, witnessed by Blackwood and Hardy, re- 
counting his Emma's unrewarded services, and com- 
mending her and Horatia (whom he now desired to 

cross-eyed; why, as my lady says, "he looks two ways for 
Sunday." ' Now Julia's husband is the ugliest man you ever 
saw; but how that little thing cou'd observe him; but she is 
clever, is she not, Nelson ? " 



426 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

bear the name of " Nelson " only x ) to the generosity 
of his King and country : — " These are the only favours 
I ask of my King and Country at this moment when I 
am going to fight their battle. May God bless my King 
and Country and all those I hold dear. My relations 
it is needless to mention; they will, of course, be amply 
provided for." On his desk lay open that fine letter to 
Emma, the simple march of whose cadences always 
somehow suggests to one Turner's picture of the 
'Xemeraire : — 

" My dearest, beloved Emma, the dear friend of my 
bosom, the signal has been made that the enemies' com- 
bined fleet is coming out of port. May the God of 
Battles crown my endeavours with success ; at all events 
I will take care that my name shall ever be most dear 
to you and Horatia, both of whom I love as much as 
my own life; and as my last writing before the battle 
will be to you, so I hope in God that I shall live to 
finish my letter after the battle. May Heaven bless 
you prays your Nelson and Bronte. . . ." 2 

As in a vision, one seems to behold that huge Santis- 
sima Trinidad, that mighty Bucentaur, that fatal Re- 
doubtable, the transmission of that imperishable 
"Duty" signal; the Victory nigh noon, hard by the 
enemy's van. One hears the awful broadside — the 
" warm work " which rends the buckle from Hardy's 
shoe — Nelson's words of daring and comfort. One 
heeds his acts of care for others and carelessness for 
himself. 

1 The King duly gave his licence to that effect. Morrison MS. 

2 October 19. The original was prominent in 1905 at the 
British Museum with Emma's indorsement : — " This letter was 
found open on His desk, and brought to Lady Hamilton by 
Captain Hardy. ' Oh, miserable, wretched Emma ! Oh, glorious 
and happy Nelson ! ' " 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 427 

His four stars singled him out as a target for the 
deathblow that " broke his back " fifteen minutes after- 
wards. He fell prone on the deck, where Hardy raised 
him: — " They have done for me at last, Hardy." And 
then, as he lies below, in face of death — " Doctor, I told 
you so; doctor, I am gone "; the whisper follows, " I 
have to leave Lady Hamilton and my adopted daughter 
Horatia as a legacy to my country." He feels " a gush 
of blood every minute within his breast." His 
thoughts are still for his officers and crew. " How 
goes the day with us, Hardy? " His day is over. " I 
am a dead man . . . come nearer to me." Over his 
filming eyes, assured of conquest, 1 hover but two pres- 
ences, but one place. " Come nearer to me. Pray 
let my dear Lady Hamilton have my hair, and all other 
things belonging to me." And next, raising himself in 
pain, " Anchor, Hardy, anchor ! " Not Collingwood 
but Hardy shall give the command; " for, if I live, I\ 
anchor." — " Take care of my poor Lady Hamilton, 
Hardy. Kiss me, Hardy." 2 — " Now I am satisfied." 
While his throat is parched and his mouth agasp for 
air, his oppressed breathing falters once more to Scott : 
" Remember that I leave Lady Hamilton and my 
daughter [now there is no " adopted "] to my country.'' 
Amid the deafening boom of guns, and all the chaos 
and carnage of the cockpit, while the surgeon quits him 
for five minutes only on his errands of mercy, alone, 
dazed, cold, yet triumphant, with a spirit exulting in 
self-sacrifice, and wavering ere its thinnest thread be 

Scott's account (cf. App.. Part II. F. (2)) brings a striking 
detail into prominence. " He died," he says, " as the battle 
finished, and his last effort to speak was made at the moment of 
joy for victory." 

2 Hardy, in a letter to Scott of March 10, 1807, protesting his 
continued esteem for Lady Hamilton, declares that Nelson's last 
words to him were, " Do be kind to poor Lady H." Cf . Life of 
Rev. Dr. Scott (1842), p. 212. 



428 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

severed, around the distant dear ones, he dies. " Thank 
God," he " has done his duty " ! Can man do more, 
or love more, than to lay down his life for his friends? 

Bound up with Britain, the son who saved, ennobled, 
and embodied her, rests immortal. Ministers, who 
used him like a sucked orange, might disregard his 
latest breath. With such as these he was never pop- 
ular. But wherever unselfishness, and valour, and 
genius dedicated to duty, are known and famed, there 
will he be remembered. " The tomb of heroes is the 
Universe/' 

Sad and slow plodded the procession of fatal vic- 
tory over the waters homeward. Long before the 
flagship that formed Nelson's hearse arrived, Scott, his 
chaplain, broke the news to Emma at Clarges Street 
through Mrs. Cadogan : — " Hasten the very moment 
you receive this to dear Lady Hamilton, and prepare 
her for the greatest of misfortunes. . . . The friends 
of my beloved are for ever dear to me." Nine days 
elapsed before she realised the worst. She was 
stunned and paralysed by the blow. For many weeks 
she lay prostrate in bed, from which she only arose 
to be removed to Merton. Her nights were those of 
sighs and memories ; her mother tended her, wrote for 
her, managed the daily tasks that seemed so far away. 
Quenched now for ever was 

"The light that shines from loving eyes upon 
Eyes that love back, till they can see no more." 

And when at length she revived, her first thought was 
to beseech the protection of the Government, not for 
herself, but for the Boltons. If George Rose could 
forward Nelson's wishes for them, it would be a drop 
of comfort in her misery. She kept all Nelson's let- 
ters — " sacred," she called them — " on her pillow." 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 429 

She fingered them over and over again. Her heart, 
she told Rose, was broken. " Life to me now is not 
worth having. I lived but for him. His glory I 
gloried in; it was my pride that he should go forth; 
and this fatal and last time he went, I persuaded him 
to it. But I cannot go on. My heart and head are 
gone. Only, believe me, what you write to me shall 
ever be attended to." Letters purporting to be Nel- 
son's regarding his last wishes had leaked out in the 
newspapers. She was too weak to " war with vile 
editors." " Could you know me, you would not think 
I had such bad policy as to publish anything at this 
moment. My mind is not a common one, and having 
lived as confidante and friend with such men as Sir 
William Hamilton and dearest, glorious Nelson, I feel 
superior to vain, tattling woman." She was desolate. 
She had lost not only the husband of her heart and 
the mainstay of her weakness, but herself — the heroine 
of a hero. She was " the same Emma " no longer, 
only a creature of the past. The receptive Muse had 
now no source of inspiration left, nor any command- 
ing part to prompt or act. Yet her old leaven was still 
indomitable. She would fight and struggle for her- 
self and her child so long as she had breath. 

Messages of sympathy poured in from every quar- 
ter, but she would not be comforted. Among others, 
Hayley, writing with the new year, and before the 
funeral, entreated her to make " affectionate justice to 
departed excellence a source of the purest delight." 
He rejoiced in the idea that his verses had ever been " a 
source of good " to her, and the egotist enclosed some 
new ones of consolation. She told him she was most 
unhappy. " No," she " must not be so," added the 
sententious " Hermit " ; " self-conquest is the summit 
of all heroism." While Rose and Louis importuned 
her for mementoes — and Emma parted with all they 



430 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

as ked — the Abbe Campbell, writing amid the third 
overthrow at Naples, was more delicate and sym- 
pathetic. His " heart was full of anguish " and com- 
miseration. " I truly pity you from my soul, and only 
wish to be near you, to participate with you in the 
agonies of your heart, and mix our tears together." 
Goldsmid sent philosophic consolation, and tried to get 
her an allotment in the new loan. Staunch Lady Betty 
Foster and Lady Percival were also among her con- 
solers, and so too was the humbler Mrs. Lind. The 
Duke of Clarence — Nelson's Duke — inquired after her 
particularly. And later Mrs. Bolton wrote : — " For a 
moment I wished myself with you, and but a moment, 
for I cannot think of Merton without a broken heart, 
even now can scarcely see for tears. How I do feel 
for you my own heart can tell; but I beg pardon for 
mentioning the subject, nor would it have been, but 
that I well know your thoughts are always so. My 
dear Horatia, give my kindest love to her. The more 
I think, the dearer she is to me." 

At length the Victory arrived at Spithead. Hardy 
travelled post-haste with his dearest friend's note- 
books and last codicil to Rose at Cuffnells. Black- 
wood assured Emma that he would deliver none of 
them to any person until he had seen her; all her 
wishes should be consulted. Scott wrote daily to her 
all December, as he kept watch over the precious re- 
mains of the man whom he worshipped. He took 
lodgings at Greenwich, where they now reposed. 
Rooted to the spot, throughout his solitary vigil he was 
ever inquiring after Emma, whom Tyson alone had 
seen. From the Board Room of Greenwich Hospital 
the body was deposited in the Painted Chamber. It 
was the saddest Christmas that England had known 
for centuries. The very beggars. Scott wrote to 
Emma, leave their stands, neglect the passing crowd, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 431 

and pay tribute to his memory by a look. " Many " 
did he see, " tattered and on crutches, shaking their 
heads with plain signs of sorrow." The Earl had 
been there with young Horace, who shed tears : — 
" Every thought and word I have is about your dear 
Nelson. Here lies Bayard, but Bayard victorious. 
... So help me God, I think he was a true knight 
and worthy the age of chivalry. One may say, lux 
meme fait le siecle — for where shall we see another? " 
In all things she might command him; he only wished 
for her approval. He could not tear himself away; he 
was rowed in the same barge that bore the hero's 
Orient-made, coffin to the Admiralty. He watched by 
it there, and thence attended it to St. Paul's. He bit- 
terly resented being parted from it by his place, next 
day, in the procession. " I honour your feelings," he 
exclaimed in the tumult of grief, " and I respect you, 
dear Lady Hamilton, for ever." 

Who can forget the scenes of that dismal triumph of 
January the 10th? Not a shop open; not a window 
untenanted by silent grief. The long array of rank 
and dignity wends its funeral march with solemn pace. 
But near the catafalque draped with emblems and 
fronted with the Victory's figurehead, are ranged the 
weather-beaten sailors who would have died to save 
him. 

Fashion and officialdom, as distasteful to Nelson liv- 
ing as he was to them, press to figure in the pomp 
which celebrated the man at whom they sometimes 
jeered, and whom they often thwarted and sought to 
supersede. Professed and unfeigned sorrow meet in 
his obsequies. 

Every order of the State is represented. Yet as 
the deep-toned anthem — half -marred at first — swells 
through the hushed cathedral, two forms are missing 
— that of the woman whom certainly he would never 



432 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

have forsworn had her wifehood ever meant real af- 
fection, and that of the other woman who beyond 
measure had loved and lost him. Can one doubt but 
that, when all was over, when form and ceremony 
were dispersed, Emma stood there, silent, their child's 
hand clasped in hers, and shed her bitter tears beside 
his wreaths of laurel, into his half-closed grave? 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE IMPORTUNATE WIDOW IN LIQUIDATION 

February, 1806 — July, 18 14 

WHILE the nation was to vote £90,000 and 
£5000 a year for the earldom of the clergy- 
man whose brother died only a Viscount and 
Vice-Admiral, in receipt of an annual grant not ex- 
ceeding £2000; while Lady Nelson, soon to wrangle 
over the will, received that same annuity, not only were 
Emma's claims disregarded, but the payment of Nel- 
son's bequest to her depended on a fluctuating rental. 
She retired for a space to Richmond, and at once 
begged Sir R. Barclay to be one of a committee fof 
arranging her affairs and disposing of Merton. Not 
apparently until next November did she address Earl 
Nelson, urging him in the strongest terms, as his 
brother's executor, to legalise Nelson's last codicil ; and 
nearly a year after he had received the pocket-book 
containing it from Hardy, he returned her a civil and 
friendly answer. Her finances were now more strait- 
ened than has been supposed. Her income from all 
sources (including Horatia's £200 a year) has been 
estimated as over some £2000. This estimate counts 
Hamilton's and Nelson's annuities, of £800 and £500 
respectively, as if they were paid free of property-tax, 
her Piccadilly furniture as realised and invested intact 
at five per cent., together with Nelson's £2000 legacy, 
and Merton as rentable at £500 a year. The tax 
alone, however, seems to have been some ten per cent., 

433 



!434 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the furniture should surely be reckoned at half-price, 
Merton was unlet, and with difficulty sold at last, 
while large inroads had been made by debt and inter- 
rupted Merton improvements. Her available capital 
must have been small. Her net income may be taken 
as under some £1200, apart from Nelson's annuity 
payable half-yearly in advance. Had this been so 
paid regularly from the first, another £450, after de- 
ducting property-tax, would have been hers. But I 
have discovered that Earl Nelson, on the excuse that 
the money he actually received from the Bronte estate 
up to 1806 was for arrears of rent accrued due before 
Nelson's death, never apparently allowed her a penny 
until 1808, and then, after consulting counsel, haggled 
over the payment in advance directed by the codicil, 
and in fact never paid her annuity in advance until 
18 14. The receipt for the first payment in advance 
still exists. This surely puts a somewhat different 
complexion on her " extravagance," since a year's de- 
lay in the receipt of income by one already encumbered 
would prove a dead weight. Imprudent and improvi- 
dent she continued; embarrassed by anticipated ex- 
pectations, eager, indeed, to compound with creditors 
she became much sooner than has hitherto been 
imagined. She remained absolutely faithful to Hora- 
tia's trust up to the miserable end. Within three years 
from Nelson's death Emma and Horatia were to be- 
come wanderers from house to house; treasure after 
treasure was afterwards to be parted with or dis- 
trained upon; and the Earl, who had flattered and 
courted Emma in her heyday, and still protested his 
willingness to serve her, and his hopes that Govern- 
ment would yield her " a comfortable pension," had 
joined the fair-weather acquaintances who left her and 
her daughter in the ditch. On the income, even apart 
from her variable annuity and the furniture proceeds, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 435 

she might have been comfortable, if she had been con- 
tent to retire at once into decent obscurity. She could 
not bring herself to forfeit the flatteries of worthless 
pensioners and cringing tradesmen; and, moreover, I 
cannot help suspecting that Nurse Gibson may not have 
rested satisfied with the occasional extra guineas be- 
stowed on her, and that whether by her or by servants 
who had guessed the secret of Horatia's birth, con- 
tinual hush-money may possibly have been extorted. 

From December 6, 1805, when he received his 
brother's " pocket-book " or " memorandum-book " 
(in the letters it is named both ways) from Hardy, the 
new Earl held in his hands the " codicil " on which 
hung Emma's fate and Horatia's. 

Only once do Earl Nelson's papers cast direct light 
on its adventures, but two of them about his wishes 
for the national vote, hint his attitude, though I think 
that she misconstrued and exaggerated its motives. 

From December 6 to December 12 it seems to have 
been kept in his own possession. He then took it to 
Lady Hamilton's friend, Sir William Scott, at Somer- 
set House, where she was led by him to believe that its 
formal registration with Nelson's will was in favour- 
able process. Before Pitt's death in the ensuing Janu- 
ary it was determined that the memorandum-book 
should be sent to the Premier. Pitt died at an un- 
fortunate moment, and Grenville became Prime Min- 
ister. After consultation with persons of consequence, 
the Earl resolved in February to hand it over to Lord 
Grenville, and in Grenville's keeping it actually re- 
mained till so late as May 30, 1806. If even, as is 
possible, the " pocket-book " and the " memorandum- 
book " mean two separate things, and what Grenville 
retained was only the latter, referring to the " codicil " 
in the first, still the undue delay was no less shabby; 
and Nelson's sisters agreed with Emma, whose warm 



436 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

adherents they remained, in so entitling it. Grenville 
was the last person in the world to act favourably 
towards Emma, but of course it was for him to decide 
from what particular source, if any, Government 
could satisfy Nelson's petition. 

Up to February 23, 1806, the Earl's letters were 
more than friendly, and even many years afterwards 
they professed goodwill and inclination to forward 
her claims for a pension, but in the interval a quarrel 
ensued. 

Emma subsequently declared that, after so long 
withholding the pocket-book, the Earl, as her own 
guest at her own table, tossed it back to her " with a 
coarse expression." She then registered the codicil 
herself. She added that the reason for its detention 
was that the Earl desired nothing to be done until he 
was positive of the national grant to him and his 
family. 

For such meanness I can see no sufficient reason. 
To put his motives at the lowest, self-interest would 
tempt him to forward Emma's claims to some kind of 
Government pension. But I do think that his course 
was ruled solely by a wish for his own safe self-ad- 
vantage. He did not choose to risk offending Gren- 
ville. The codicil was not proved till July 4. 

Earl Nelson certainly never erred on the side of gen- 
erosity. Despite his assiduous court to Emma during 
Nelson's lifetime, and his present amicable professions, 
he himself, as executor, went ferreting for papers at 
that Merton where he had so often found a home, and 
whose hospitality his wife and children still continued 
gratefully to enjoy; though he was probably angered 
when the shrewd Mrs. Cadogan proved his match 
there and worsted him. With reluctance, and " with 
a bleeding heart," he conceded Emma's " right " to the 
" precious possession " of the hero's coat, as the docu- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 437 

ment concerning its surrender, in his wife's handwrit- 
ing, still attests. In the future, only two years after 
declaring, " No one can wish her better than I do," he 
was to begrudge one halfpenny of the expenses after 
her death. Only a few months before it, his behaviour 
caused her to exclaim in a letter which has only this 
year seen the light, and which is one of the most piteous 
yet least complaining that she ever wrote, " He has 
never given the dear Horatia a frock or a sixpence." 
He squabbled over Clarke and M'Arthur's Life of his 
brother. And long after Emma lay mouldering in a 
nameless grave, he declined to put down his name for 
the book of a brother clergyman, on the ground that 
for books he had long ceased to subscribe. If Emma 
rasped him by overbearing defiance (and she never set 
herself to conciliation), it would excuse but not justify 
him, since Horatia's prospects were as much concerned 
as Emma's in the fulfilment of the last request of the 
departed brother, to whom he and his owed absolutely 
everything. 

The worst was yet far distant. But harassing 
vexations already began to cluster round the unhappy 
woman, who was denied her demands by ministers 
alleging as impediments long lapse of time and the in- 
applicability of the Secret Service Fund, though Rose 
and Canning afterwards acknowledged them to be just. 
Pitt's death with the dawning year rebuffed anew, as 
we have seen, the main hope of this unfortunate and 
importunate widow. Hidden briars beset her path 
also. Her once obsequious creditors already clamoured, 
and were only staved off temporarily by the delusive 
promises of Nelson's will. For a time one at least of 
the Connors x caused her secret and serious uneasiness 

*Ann, who, with the touch of madness peculiar to the whole 
family, and at this time dangerous in Charles, associated herself 
now with Emma " Carew," whose pseudonym she took, as Lady 



438 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

by ingratitude and slander; while the whole of this 
extravagant family preyed on and " almost ruined " 
her. But, worse than all, the insinuations of her 
enemies began at length to find a loud and unchecked 
outlet. " How hard it is," she wrote of her de- 
tractors, during a visit to Nelson's relations, in a let- 
ter of September 7, 1806, to her firm ally the departed 
hero's friend and chaplain, " how cruel their treatment 
to me and to Lord Nelson ! That angel's last wishes 
all neglected, not to speak of the fraud that was acted 
to keep back the codicil. ... It seems that those that 
truly loved him are to be victims to hatred, jealousy, 
and spite. . . . We have, and had, what they that per- 
secute us never had, his unbounded love and esteem, 
his confidence and affection. ... If I had any influ- 
ence over him, I used it for the good of my country. 
... I have got -all his letters, and near eight hundred 
of the Queen of Naples' letters, to show what I did 

Hamilton's daughter. "How shocked and surprised I was, my 
dear friend," writes Mrs. Bolton. " Poor, wretched girl, what 
will become of her? What could possess her to circulate such 
things? But I do not agree with you in thinking that she ought 
to have been told before, nor do I think anything more ought 
to have been said than to set her right. ... I am sure I 
would say and do everything to please and nothing to fret." 
—Morrison MS. 896, Friday, October 11, 1806. In her "will" 
of 1808 Emma records : — " I declare before God, and as I hope 
to see Nelson in heaven, that Ann Connor, who goes by the 
name of Carew and tells many falsehoods, that she is my 
daughter, but from what motive I know not, I declare that 
she is the eldest daughter of my mother's sister, Sarah Connor, 
and that I have the mother and six children to keep, all of 
them except two having turned out bad. I therefore beg of my 
mother to be kind to the two good ones, Sarah and Cecilia. 
This family having by their extravagance almost ruined me, I 
have nothing to leave them, and I pray to God to turn Ann 
Connor alias Carew's heart. I forgive her, but as there is a 
madness in the Connor family, I hope it is only the effect of 
this disorder that may have induced this bad young woman to 
have persecuted me by her slander and falsehood." — Morrison 
MS. 959. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 439 

for my King and Country, and prettily I am re- 
warded." For glory she had lived, for glory she had 
been ready to die. In seeking to rob her of glory by 
refusing to acknowledge her services, and by traducing 
her motives her foes had wounded her where she 
was most susceptible. Pained to the quick, yet as 
poignantly pricked to defiance, she uplifted her voice 
and spirit above and against theirs : — 

" Psha ! I am above them, I despise them ; for, 
thank God, I feel that having lived with honour and 
glory, glory they cannot take from me. I despise 
them; my soul is above them, and I can yet make 
some of them tremble by showing how he despised 
them, for in his letters to me he thought aloud." The 
parasites were already on the wing. " Look," she re- 
sumed, " at Alexander Davison, courting the man he 
despised, and neglecting now those whose feet he used 
to lick. Dirty, vile groveler." She meets contumely 
with contumely. 

But her warm and uninterrupted intercourse with 
Nelson's sisters and their families proved throughout a 
ray of real sunshine. She stayed with them — espe- 
cially the Boltons — incessantly, and they with her at 
Merton. The Countess Nelson herself, even after 
her husband's unfriendliness, was her constant visitor. 
Horatia was by this time adopted " cousin " to all 
the Bolton and Matcham youngsters. Nothing could 
be further from the truth, as revealed in the Morrison 
Autographs, than the picture of Emma, so often given, 
as now a broken " adventuress." She led the life 
at home of a respected lady, befriended by Lady Eliz- 
abeth Foster and Lady Percival. Lady Abercorn 
begged her to bring Naldi and perform for the poor 
Princess of Wales. But her heart stayed with Nel- 
son's kinsfolk, with Horatia's relations. She stifled 
her sorrow for a while with the young people, who 



440 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

still found Merton a home, as Mrs. Bolton tenderly ac- 
knowledged. Charlotte Nelson was still an inmate, 
and Anne and Eliza Bolton were repeatedly under its 
hospitable roof. Emma's godchild and namesake, 
Lady Bolton's daughter, was devoted tx> Mrs. Cadogan 
— they all " loved " her, she called her " grandmama." 
The Cranwich girls reported to " dearest Lady Ham- 
ilton " all their tittle-tattle, the country balls, their mu- 
sical progress, the matches, the prosperous poultry, 
their dishes and gardens. They awaited her Sunday 
letters — their " chief pleasure " — with impatience. 
They never forgot either her birthday or Mrs. Cado- 
gan's. When in a passing fit of retrenchment she 
meditated migration to one of her several future lodg- 
ings in Bond Street, who so afraid for her inconveni- 
ence as her dear Mrs. Bolton? When the ministry, 
after Pitt's demise, brought Canning to the fore, who- 
again so glad that George Rose was his friend and 
hers, so convinced that the " new people who shoot 
up " as petitioners were the real obstacles to her suc- 
cess ? And so in a sense it proved, for one of the min- 
istry's excuses may well have been that a noble fam- 
ily had been ten years on their hands. Mrs. Bolton 
still hoped — even in 1808 — that the "good wishes of 
one who is gone to heaven will disappoint the wicked." 
Mrs. Matcham, too, who " recalled the many happy 
days we have spent together," was always soliciting a 
visit : " It will give us great pleasure to fete you, the 
best in our power." She longed — in 1808 again — to 
pass her time with her, though it might be a " selfish 
wish." But Emma preferred the Bolton household. 
She and Horatia went there immediately after the 
" codicil " annoyances, and twice more earlier in that 
same year alone. Emma, they repeated, " was beloved 
by all." And her affection extended to their friends 
at Brancaster and elsewhere. Sir William Bolton re- 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 441 

mained in his naval command, and Lady Hamilton 
kept her popularity with the navy. Anne and Eliza 
Bolton, together with their mother, hung on her light- 
est words, and followed her singing-parties at " Old 
Q.'s," in 1807, with more than musical interest. Eliza, 
indeed, one regrets to recount, confided a dream to 
Emma, a dream of " Old Q.'s " death and a thumping 
legacy. " There is a feeling for you at this heart of 
mine," wrote Anne Bolton, just before the crash, " that 
will not be conquered, and I believe will accompany 
me wherever I may go, and last while I have life." 
Surely in Emma must have resided something mag- 
netic so to draw the hearts of the young towards her 
— even when, as now, she seemed to neglect them. 
Those who judge, or misjudge her, might have modi- 
fied their censoriousness had they experienced the win- 
ning charm of her friendship. 

, But all this while, and under the surface, Emma 
continued miserable, ill, and worried. Her impor- 
tunities with the Government were doomed to failure; 
her monetary position, aggravated by reckless gen- 
erosity towards her poverty-stricken kinsfolk, grew 
more precarious ; but her pride seems not to have let 
her breathe a syllable of these embarrassments to the 
Boltons or the Matchams. 

For a while she removed to 136 Bond Street as a 
London pied-a-terre. One of her letters of this period 
survives, addressed to Captain Rose, her befriender's 
son. Horatia insisted on guiding Emma's hand, and 
both mother and daughter signed the letter. " Con- 
tinue to love us," she says, " and if you would make 
Merton your home, whenever you land on shore you 
will make us very happy." To Merton, so long as she 
could, she and her fatherless daughter still clung. 

To carry out Nelson's wishes with regard to Hora- 
tia's education was her main care, but her ideas of 



442 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

education began and ended with accomplishments. 
Horatia's precocities both delighted and angered her. 
Of real mental discipline she had no knowledge, and 
her stormy temper found its match in her child's. 

Her restless energy, bereft of its old vents, found 
refuge *.n getting Harrison to write his flimsy life of 
the hero; in trying to dispose of the beloved home, 
which she became hourly less able to maintain; in 
coping with her enemies ; in dictating letters to Clarke, 
another of the throng of dependants with whom she 
liked to surround herself; in hoping that Hayley 
would celebrate her in his Life of Romney. An un- 
published letter from her to him of June, 1806 — a 
portion of which has been already cited — depicts her 
as she was. She is " very low-spirited and very far 
from well." She was " very happy at Naples, but all 
seems gone like a dream." She is " plagued by law- 
yers, ill-used by the Government, and distracted by 
that variety and perplexity of subjects which press 
upon her," without any one left to steer her course. 
She passes " as much of her time at dear Merton as 
possible," and " always feels particularly low " when 
she leaves it. She tries hard to gain " a mastery over 
herself," but at present her own unhappiness is as in- 
vincible as her gratitude to her old friend who so often 
influenced her for good. She is distraught, misin- 
terpreted, the sport of chance and apathy. 

"L'ignorance en courant fait sa roide homicide, 
L'indifference observe et le hasard decide." 

Two years later again, when misfortunes were thick- 
ening around her, she thus addressed Heaviside, her 
kind surgeon: — ". . . Altho' that life to myself may 
no longer be happy, yet my dear mother and Horatia 
will bless you, for if I can make the old age of my 
good mother comfortable, and educate Horatia, as 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 443 

tKe great and glorious Nelson in his dying moments 
begged me to do, I shall feel yet proud and delighted 
that I am doing my duty and fulfilling the desires and 
wishes of one I so greatly honoured." And in the 
same strain she wrote in that same year to Greville, 
who had then relented towards her. She strove, she 
assured him, to fulfil all that " glorious Nelson " 
thought that she " would do if he fell " — her " daily 
duties to his memory." Of " virtuous " Nelson she 
writes perpetually. On him as perpetually she muses. 
For till she had met him she had never known the 
meaning of true self-sacrifice. In his strength her 
weak soul was still absorbed. Remembrance was now 
her guiding star; but it trembled above her over 
troubled waters, leading to a dismal haven. Nor, in 
her own sadness, was she ever unmindful of the mis- 
ery and wants of others. 

Before the year 1808, which was to drive her from 
" dear, dear Merton," had opened, she received one 
more letter which cheered her. Mrs. Thomas, the 
widow of her old Hawarden employer, the mother of 
the daughter who first sketched her beauty, and whom 
Emma always remembered with gratitude, wrote to 
condole with her on the misconduct of some of the 
Connors. She alluded also to that old relation, Mr. 
Kidd, mentioned at the beginning of our story, who 
from being above had fallen beyond work, but who 
still battened on the bounty of his straitened bene- 
factress : — 

"... I am truly sorry that you have so much 
trouble with your relations, and the ungrateful return 
your care and generosity meets with, is indeed enough 
to turn your heart against them. However, ungrate- 
ful as they are, your own generous heart cannot see 
them in want, and it is a pity that your great generosity 
towards them shou'd be so ill-placed. I don't doubt 



444 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

that you receive a satisfaction in doing for them, which 
will reward you here and hereafter. I sent for Mr. 
Kidd upon the receipt of your letter. I believe he has 
been much distressed for some time back. ... As he 
observes, he was not brought up for work." In her 
opinion, the less pocket-money he gets, the better; it 
" will onely be spent in the ale-house." The Reyn- 
oldses, too, had been living upon Emma, and another 
relation, Mr. Nichol, Kidd's connection, expected ten 
shillings a week. Emma had provided Richard 
Reynolds with clothes, and a Mr. Humphries with 
lodging. They all imagined her in clover, and she 
would not undeceive them. When her " extrava- 
gance " is brought up against her, these deeds of hid- 
den and ill-requited generosity should be remembered. 
She was more extravagant for others than for herself. 
She even besought the Queen of Naples to confer a 
pension on Mrs. Grafer, though she besought in vain. 
And all the time she continued her unceasing presents 
to Nelson's relations, and to poor blind " Mrs. Maurice 
Nelson." 

But these were the flickers of a wasting candle. By 
April, 1808, Merton was up for sale. The Boltons 
had not the slightest inkling of her disasters. They 
missed the regularity of her letters; they had heard 
that she was unwell, and fretting herself, but they were 
quite unaware of the cause. Indeed, Anne Bolton 
was herself now at Merton with Horatia, under the 
care of Mrs. Cadogan, who was soon ill herself under 
the worries so bravely withheld. 

Maria Carolina, still in correspondence with her 
friend, was, however, unable, it would seem, or un- 
willing to aid her since she had written the reluctant 
plea on her behalf to the English ministers four years 
previously. Indeed, it may be guessed that one of the 
reasons alleged for disregarding the supplication of 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 445 

Nelson, was that its discussion might compromise the 
Neapolitan Queen. This, then, was the end of the 
royal gratitude so long and lavishly professed. When 
Emma in this year besought her, not for herself, but 
for Mrs. Grafer (then on the eve of return to 
Palermo), she told Greville that she had adjured her 
to redeem her pledge of a pension to their friend " by 
the love she bears, or once bore, to Emma," as well as 
" by the sacred memory of Nelson." If the Queen 
was at this time in such straits as precluded her from 
a pecuniary grant once promised to the dependant, she 
might still have exerted herself for her dearest friend. 
But " Out of sight, out of mind." In despair, while 
Rose returned to his barren task of doing little elab- 
orately, Emma betook herself to Lord St. Vincent. 
If her importunities could effect nothing with the gods 
above, she would entreat one of them below. Per- 
haps Nelson's old ally could melt the obdurate min- 
isters into some regard for Nelson's latest prayers; 
perhaps through him she might draw a drop, if only 
of bitterness, with her Danaid bucket from that dreary 
official well. 

She conjures him by the " tender recollection " of 
his love for Nelson to help the hope reawakened in 
her " after so many years of anxiety and cruel dis- 
appointment," that some heed may be paid to the dying 
wishes of " our immortal and incomparable hero," for 
the reward of those " public services of importance " 
which it was her " pride as well as duty to perform." 
She will not harrow him by detailing " the various 
vicissitudes " of her " hapless " fortunes since the 
fatal day when " Nelson bequeathed herself and his in- 
fant daughter, expressly left under her guardianship, 
to the munificent protection of our Sovereign and the 
nation." She will not arouse his resentment " by re- 
citing the many petty artifices, mean machinations, 



446 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

and basely deceptive tenders of friendship " which 
hitherto have thwarted her. She reminds him that 
he knows what she did, because to her and her hus- 
band's endeavours she had been indebted for his friend- 
ship. The widow of Lock, the Palermo Consul, had 
an immediate pension assigned of £800 a year, while 
Mr. Fox's natural daughter, Miss Willoughby, ob- 
tained one of £300. Might not the widow of the 
King's foster-brother, an Ambassador so distinguished, 
hope for some recognition of what she had really done, 
and what Nelson had counted on being conceded? 

At the same time both she and Rose besought Lord 
Abercorn, who interested himself warmly in her 
favour. In Rose's letter occurs an important passage, 
to the effect that Nelson on his last return home had, 
through him, forwarded to Pitt a solemn assurance 
that it was through Emma's " exclusive interposition 
that he had obtained provisions and water for the Eng- 
lish ships at Syracuse, in the summer of 1798, by which 
he was enabled to return to Egypt in quest of the 
enemy's fleet " ; and also that Pitt himself, while stay- 
ing with him at Cuffnells, had " listened favourably " 
to his representations. Rose had previously assured 
Lady Hamilton that he was convinced of the " justice 
of her pretensions," to which she " was entitled both 
on principle and policy." 

And not long afterwards, when, as we shall shortly 
see, kind friends came privately to her succour, she 
forwarded another long memorial to Rose, in whose 
Diaries it is comprised, clearly detailing both services 
and misadventures. " This want of success," she re- 
peats, and with truth, " has been more unfortunate 
for me, as I have incurred very heavy expenses in com- 
pleting what Lord Nelson had left unfinished at Mer- 
ton, and I have found it impossible to sell the place." 
She might have added that Nelson entreated her not 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 447 

to spend one penny of income on the contracts; he 
never doubted that this cost at least the nation would 
defray. " From these circumstances," she resumes, 
" I have been reduced to a situation the most painful 
and distressing that can be conceived, and should have 
been actually confined in prison, if a few friends from 
attachment to the memory of Lord Nelson had not in- 
terfered to prevent it, under whose kind protection 
alone I am enabled to exist. My case is plain and sim- 
ple. I rendered a service of the utmost importance to 
my country, attested in the clearest and most undeni- 
able manner possible, and I have received no reward, 
although justice was claimed for me by the hero who 
lost his life in the performance of his duty. ... If I 
had bargained for a reward beforehand, there can be 
no doubt but that it would have been given to me, and 
liberally. I hoped then not to want it. I do now 
stand in the utmost need of it, and surely it will not be 
refused to me. ... I anxiously implore that my 
claims may not be rejected without consideration, and 
that my forbearance to urge them earlier may not be 
objected to me, because in the lifetime of Sir William 
Hamilton I should not have thought of even mention- 
ing them, nor indeed after his death, if I had been left 
in a less comparatively destitute state." 

Yet the latter was the excuse continuously urged by 
successive Governments. Both Rose and Canning, 
more than once, admitted the justice of her claims, 
and even Grenville seems by implication not to have 
denied it. Rose always avowed his promise to Nelson 
at his " last parting from him " to do his best, and he 
did it. But he well knew that the real obstacle lay 
not in doubt, or in lapse of time, or in the quibble of 
how and from what fund it would be possible to satisfy 
her claims, but solely in the royal disinclination to 
favour one whom the King's foster-brother had mar- 



448 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

ried against his will, and whose early antecedents, and 
later connection with Nelson, alike scandalised him. 
The objections raised were always technical and 
parliamentary, and never touched the substantial 
point of justice at all. The sum named — 
£6000 or £7000 — would have been a bagatelle 
in view of the party jobbing then universally prevalent; 
and no attentive peruser of the whole correspondence 
from 1803- 181 3 can fail to grasp that each successive 
minister — one generously, another grudgingly — at 
least never disputed her claims even while he refused 
them. It was not their justice, but justice itself that 
was denied, and the importunate widow was left plead- 
ing before the unjust judge who had more advan- 
tageous claimants to content. Pitt's death, in January, 
1806, was undoubtedly a great blow to Emma's hopes. 
During his last illness she must often have watched 
that white house at Putney with the keenest anxiety. 
So early as the beginning of 1805, Lord Melville, 
whom Nelson had asked to bestir himself on Emma's 
behalf during his absence, told Davison that he had 
spoken to Pitt personally about " the propriety of a 
pension of £500 " for her. Melville himself spoke 
" very handsomely " both of her and her " services." 
Pitt, if he had survived more than a year and had 
been quit of Lord Grenville, might have risked the 
royal disfavour, as in weightier concerns he never 
shrank from doing. The luckless Emma sank appar- 
ently between the two stools of social propriety and of- 
ficial convenience, while the hope against hope, that 
no disillusionment could extinguish, constantly made 
her the victim of her anticipations. 

For a moment a purchaser willing to give £13,000 
for Merton had been almost secured. But debts and 
fears hung around her neck like millstones. They in- 
terrupted her correspondence and sapped her health, 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 449 

now in serious danger. By June, 1808, she told her 
surgeon, Heaviside, that she was so " low and com- 
fortless " that nothing did her good. Her heart was 
so " oppressed " that " God only knows " when that 
will mend, — " perhaps only in heaven." He had 
" saved " her life. He was " like unto her a father, 
a good brother." In vain she supplicated " Old Q." 
to purchase Merton and she would live on what re- 
mained : he had named her in his will, and that suf- 
ficed. With her staunch servant Nanny, and her 
faithful " old Dame Francis," who attended her to the 
end she and Horatia retired to Richmond, where for a 
space the Duke allowed her to occupy Heron Court, 
though this too was later on to be exchanged for a 
small house in the Bridge Road. She herself drew up 
a will, bequeathing what still was hers to her mother 
for her life, and afterwards to " Nelson's daughter," 
with many endearments, and expressing the perhaps 
impudent request that possibly she might be permitted 
to rest near Nelson in St. Paul's, but otherwise she de- 
sired to rest near her " dear mother." She begged 
Rose to act as her executor, and she called on him, the 
Duke, the Prince, and " any administration that has 
hearts and feelings," to support and cherish Horatia. 

All proved unavailing, and she resigned herself to 
the inevitable liquidation. After a visit to the Bol- 
tons in October, she returned to arrange her affairs in 
November. 

A committee of warm friends had taken them in 
hand. Many of them had powerful city connections. 
Sir John Perring was chairman of a meeting convened 
in his house at the close of November. His chief as- 
sociates were Goldsmid, Davison, Barclay, and Lavie, 
a solicitor of the highest standing, and there were five 
other gentlemen of repute. 

A full statement had been drawn up. Her assets 



450 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

amounted to £17,500, " taken at a very low rate," and 
independent of her annuities under the two wills and 
her " claim on the Government," which they still put 
to the credit side. Her private debts, of which a 
great part seems to have been on account of the Mer- 
ton improvements, amounted to £8,000, but there were 
also exorbitant demands on the part of money-lenders, 
who had made advances on the terms of receiving " an- 
nuities." To satisfy these, £10,000 were required. 

Everything possible was managed. All her assets, 
including the prosecution of those hopeless claims, 
were vested in the committee as trustees, and they 
were realised to advantage. Goldsmid himself pur- 
chased Merton. £3700 were meanwhile subscribed in 
advance to pay off her private indebtedness. 

At this juncture Greville reappears unexpectedly 
upon the scene. In her sore distress he thawed 
towards one whom his iciest reserve and most petti- 
fogging avarice had never chilled. He had evidently 
asked her to call, though he never seems to have of- 
fered assistance. She answered, in a letter far more 
concerning her friend Mrs. Grafer's affairs than her 
own, that an interview with her " trustees " must, alas ! 
prevent her : — " I will call soon to see you, and in- 
form you of my present prospect of Happiness at a 
moment of Desperation " ; you who, she adds, " I 
thought neglected me, Goldsmid and my city friends 
came forward, and they have rescued me from De- 
struction, Destruction brought on by Earl Nelson's 
having thrown on me the Bills for finishing Merton, 
by his having secreted the Codicil of Dying Nelson, 
who attested in his dying moments that I had well 
served my country. All these things and papers . . . 
I have laid before my Trustees. They are paying my 
debts. I live in retirement, and the City are going 
to bring forward my claims. . . . Nothing, no power 




The death of Admiral Nelson at the battle of Trafalgar. 
"Thank God, I have done my duty." 

From the Painting by W. H. Overend. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 451 

on earth shall make me deviate from my present sys- 
tem," she concludes, using the very word which 
Greville used concerning his methods with woman- 
kind in the first letter which she ever received from 
him. Goldsmid had been an " angel " ; friends were 
so kind that she scarcely missed her carriage and 
horses. 

Emma had every reason to be grateful. She was 
clear of debt. She could still retain the valuables that 
were out of Merton. With Horatia's settlement, she 
could count on her old revenue when the " annuities " 
had been discharged. Somehow they never were, and 
they again figure largely during her last debacle. The 
mysteries of her entanglements baffle discovery; so 
does her sanguine improvidence which, to the end, 
alternated with deep depression. In a few years she 
and Horatia, like Hagar and Ishmael, were to go forth 
into the wilderness ; but even then she was still buoyed 
up with this mirage of an oasis in her tantalising 
desert. 

Relieved for the moment, she resumed the tenor of 
her way at Richmond. She frequented concerts, and 
sometimes dances, in the fashionable set of the Duke 
and the Abercorns. In June, 1809, Lord Northwick 
begged her to come to the Harrow speeches, and after- 
wards meet a few " old Neapolitan friends " and her 
life-long friend the Duke of Sussex at " a fete in his 
house." The fame of Horatia's accomplishments 
added the zest of curiosity. All were eager to meet 
the " interesting Sieve whom Lady Hamilton has 
brought up " with every grace and every charm. The 
Duke of Sussex looked forward to the encounter with 
pleasure; Emma had not yet lost her empire over the 
hearts of men. Of this invitation Emma took ad- 
vantage to do a thoughtful kindness for an unhappy 
bride who had just married the composer Francesco 

Memoirs — Vol. 14 — 15 



452 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Bianchi. Twelve days earlier she had tried appar- 
ently to heal the breach between them. 

The Bohemians, therefore, were always with her. 
She continued to receive the Italian singers as well as 
their patrons; she still saw Mrs. Denis and Mrs. Bil- 
lington, whose brutal husband, Filisan, was now threat- 
ening her from Paris; while Mrs. Grafer, on the very 
eve of return to Italy, continued to beset her with im- 
portunities. Nor did her old friends, naval, musical, 
and literary, spare the largeness of her hospitality or 
the narrowness of her purse. 

But, in addition to these diversions, she still over- 
tasked herself with Horatia's education — so much so, 
that Mrs. Bolton wrote beseeching her to desist. Sarah 
Connor had now transferred her services to the Nel- 
son family, and Emma eventually took the musical 
but far less literate Cecilia for Horatia's governess. 

" Old Q.," her patron, now in the last year of his 
self-indulgent life, was busy making a new will every 
week. His friendship for Emma, however, had been 
truly disinterested, and even calumny never coupled 
their names together. When he died next year, he 
left her an annuity of £500, which, however — such was 
her persistent ill luck — she never lived to receive, for 
the old voluptuary's will was contested, it would seem, 
till after Lady Hamilton had paid the debt of nature. 
Even if she had survived the litigation, it would prob- 
ably have absorbed a portion of the bequest. 

The autumn of 1809 saw, too, the end of Greville. 
Since his mean and heartless treatment of her after 
Hamilton's death, Emma, save for the glimpse of 
reconciliation afforded by the remarkable communica- 
tion of 1808 just quoted, had never so much as breathed 
his name in any of her surviving letters. The collector 
of stones had, till that moment of compunction, him- 
self been petrified. In 1812 his crystals, for which he 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 453 

had so long ago exchanged Emma, together with the 
paintings which his cult of beauty at the expense of 
the beautiful had amassed, were sold at Christie's. 
" The object of this connoisseur," writes M. Simond, 
an eye-witness of the auction, " was to exhibit the 
progress of the art from its origin by a series of pic- 
tures of successive ages — many of them very bad." 
And perhaps the faultiest of his pictures had been him- 
self. 

From 1810, when they left Richmond, onwards, 
Emma and Horatia owned no fixed abode. They 
moved from Bond Street to Albemarle Street, thence, 
after perhaps a brief sojourn in Piccadilly again, to 
Dover Street, thence to two separate lodgings at the 
two ends again of Bond Street, where Nelson for a 
brief space after Sir William's death had also lodged. 
Lady Bolton, with her daughter, the godchild Emma, 
who had failed to find her at the opening of the year, 
expressed their keen disappointment : " You cannot 
think how melancholy I felt when we passed the gate 
at the top of Piccadilly, thinking how often we had 
passed it together. . . . Emma sends her best love 
and kisses to you, and Horatia, and Mrs. Cadogan. 
When I told her just now how if we had gone two 
houses further we should have seen you, she looked 
very grave. At last she called out : ' Pray, Mama, 
promise me to call as we go back to Cranwich.' . . . 
My love to Mrs. Cadogan, Miss Connor, and my dear 
Horatia. . . . God bless you, my dear Lady Ham- 
ilton." 

But the worst blow was yet to fall. By the opening 
of the new year her mother lay on her deathbed. 

Her old admirer, Sir H. Fetherstonehaugh — and 
nothing is more curious in this extraordinary woman's 
life than the way in which the light lover of her first 
girlhood re-emerges after thirty years as a respectful 



454 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

friend — began a series of sympathising letters. He 
was much concerned for her health, and ill as she was, 
she forgot her own ailments in the terrible trial of 
her mother's malady. " As I am alive to all nervous 
sensations," he wrote, " be assured I understand your 
language." — "I trust you will soon be relieved from 
all that load of anxiety you have had so much of lately, 
and which no one so little deserves." 

Mrs. Cadogan died on the same day as the date of 
this letter, and Emma with Horatia now drifted for- 
lorn and alone in a pitiless world. Emma's mother 
had endeared herself to all the Nelson and Hamilton 
circle, as well as to her own humble kindred. " Dear 
Blessed Saint," wrote Mrs. Bolton to Lady Hamilton, 
" was she not a mother to us all ! How I wish I was 
near you ! " She was buried in that Paddington 
churchyard which she and Emma had known so well 
in the old days at Edgware Row. 

Emma was paralysed by the blow. More than a 
year afterwards she wrote that she could feel " no 
pleasure but that of thinking and speaking of her." In 
sending to Mrs. Girdlestone — whose family still pos- 
sesses so many relics of Nelson — the box which the 
Duke of Sussex had presented to Mrs. Cadogan in 
Naples, the bereaved daughter concluded a touching 
letter as follows : " Accept then, my dear Friend, this 
box. You that are so fond a mother, and have such 
good children, will be pleased to take it as a token of 
my regard, for I have lost the best of mothers, my 
wounded heart, my comfort, all buried with her." 

" Endeavour," wrote Mrs. Bolton, " to keep up your 
spirits: after a storm comes a calm, and God knows 
you have had storm enough, and surely the sun must 
shine sometimes." 

The sun was never to shine again. This very year 
two more staunch friends, to whom Emma had been 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 455 

indebted for many kindnesses, made their exit, the old 
Duke and the generous Abraham Goldsmid, who, in 
despair at the failure of the recent Government loan, 
died by his own hand. It was a year of tumult. The 
din and riot of Burdett's election endangered the 
streets; abroad it was the year of Napoleon's second 
marriage, of the great battle of Wagram preluding 
the Russian campaign. Maria Carolina was an exile 
once more. Austria and the allies were worsted and 
rabid. Whichever way Emma's distraught mind 
turned, despair and misery were her outlook, and Nel- 
son seemed to have died in vain. 

The sum raised for her relief had been soon ex- 
hausted. In removing to Bond Street she intended 
really to retrench, but everything was swallowed up 
by the crowd of parasites who consumed her substance 
behind her back. Her landlady, Mrs.Daumier, pressed 
for payment. And yet Lady Hamilton's own require- 
ments seem to have been modest enough. It was Mrs. 
Bianchi, Mrs. Billington, the person, whoever he may 
have been, who filched her papers from her afterwards, 
and the battening Neapolitans that rendered economy 
impossible and swarmed around her to the close. Nor 
would old dependants of Nelson believe that she was 
impoverished. One, " William Nelson," importuned 
her for another from Bethnal Green; Mr. Twiss, Mrs. 
Siddons's nephew, urged her influence for his solicita- 
tions to gain a " commissionership of Bankruptcy " — 
an ominous word for Emma. The Kidds, Reynoldses, 
and Charles Connor still lived on, the girl Connors with 
her. Their conduct ill contrasted with that of the 
once " poor little Emma " ; for the unacknowledged 
Emma " Carew," after disdaining dependence on her 
prosperity, was now, in adversity, bidding her a last 
and loving farewell. Sir William Bolton still en- 
treated her good offices with the royal dukes for " poor 



456 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Horace " ; so did Mrs. Matcham with Rose. She 
could not even now refrain from maintaining appear- 
ances, and keeping open house. She could not bring 
herself to let those debonair royal dukes know that 
one whom they fancied all song and sunshine was on 
the brink of beggary. She could not hold the promise, 
repeated to her befrienders, of living in tranquillity 
and retirement. Nor would she desist from making 
presents. She still visited fashionable resorts like 
Brighton. She still enjoyed the friendship of Lady 
Elizabeth Foster, by now the new Duchess of Devon- 
shire. She still flattered herself, and listened to the 
flatteries of others. She still trusted to chance — to her 
elusive claims and her elusive legacy. 

The old Duke had left Miss Connor a legacy also, 
but all his bequests were long postponed. While Mrs. 
Matcham was congratulating Emma on accessions of 
fortune, while elderly, complimentary, Frenchified 
Fetherstonehaugh rejoiced at the Queensberry " mite 
out of such a mass of wealth," forwarded her " envoies 
de gibier" and promised her " a view of old Up Park 
dans la belle saison" the widow's cruse was wellnigh 
drained. Nor after Greville's death, was his brother, 
as trustee, always regular in his payments of her fore- 
stalled revenue. With reason, as well as with excuses, 
Lord Mansfield warned her not to increase her ex- 
penditure till her " affairs were settled." Sir Richard 
Puleston, inviting her from Wrexham to revisit the 
scenes of her childhood, could still gloat over her 
" fairy palace in Bond Street." 

In extreme need, she revived her desperate petitions 
to the new Government. Her fashionable friends 
called her " a national blessing," and cried shame on 
the deniers of her suit. But Mrs. Bolton well said to 
her that she feared the friendly Rose was " promising 
more than he could procure " ; and amid these dubious 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 457 

hopes two tell-tale pieces of paper in the Morrison Col- 
lection speak volumes. They are bills drawn on 
Emma by Carlo Rovedino, an Italian, for £150 each. 

Even Cecilia Connor, with whom she had quarrelled 
but who owed her everything, dunned " her Ladyship " 
for the salary due for such education as she had given 
" dear Horatia." This was the last straw. 

The Matchams and Boltons invited her yet again, 
but she did not come. She concerted fresh petitions 
with a fresh man of the pen. He hastened at Emma's 
bidding from his " Woodbine Cottage " at Wootton 
Bridge. He worked " like a horse." During his ab- 
sence his wife was ill. Emma could not rest for think- 
ing of her. She inquired of her from a common 
friend. She wrote to her herself: " You do not know 
how many obligations I have to Mr. Russell, and if I 
have success it will be all owing to his exertions for 
me. Would to God you were in town. What a con- 
solation it would be to me." All smiles to the world, 
full of wretchedness within, she could not, as she wrote 
so many years ago, " divest " herself " of her natural 
feelings." But her uniform love of excitement — of 
which these hazardous petitions were a form — peeps 
out at the close of this little note: " It must be very 
dull, alltho' your charming family must be such a com- 
fort to you." 

The crash came suddenly with the opening of the 
new year, and just as Miss Matcham was begging her 
to repose herself with them at Ashfield Lodge. Hora- 
tia had whooping-cough. Emma, who was never with- 
out a companion, had replaced Cecilia Connor by a 
Miss Wheatley. For the sixth time she had failed in 
moving the ministers, but her tenacity was inexpug- 
nable. She owed it to her kind committee, to Nelson's 
memory, to Horatia, to herself. The creditors, how- 
ever, at last perceived that the asset on which they had 



458 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

built their hopes had vanished. In vain she prayed 
for time; the royal dukes would not see her draggled 
in the dust. Royal dukes, however, were not cash, 
thought the creditors, when they promptly arrested 
her for debt. It was the first time such a calamity 
had even entered her mind, but it was not to be the last, 
as we shall soon discover. She implored none of her 
grand friends. From the disgrace of prison she saved 
herself. Ill, with the ailing Horatia, she found a scant 
lodging at 12 Temple Place, within the rules of the 
King's Bench. To her old Merton friend, James 
Perry, afterwards proprietor of the Morning Chron- 
icle, and through thick and thin her warm upholder, 
she addressed the following scrawl — 

" Will you have the goodness to see my old Dame 
Francis, as you was so good to say to me at once at 
any time for the present existing and unhappy cir- 
cumstances you wou'd befriend me, and if you cou'd at 
your conveaneance call on me to aid me by your advice 
as before. My friends come to town to-morrow for 
the season, when I must see what can be done, so 
that I shall not remain here ; for I am so truly unhappy 
and wretched and have been ill ever since I had the 
pleasure of seeing you on dear Horatia's birthday, that 
I have not had either spirits or energy to write to you. 
You that loved Sir William and Nelson, and feel that 
I have deserved from my country some tribute of re- 
muneration, will aid by your counsel your ever affec- 
tionate and gratefull. . . ." 1 

And to the Abbe Campbell, who had just left for 
Naples : — 

". . . You was beloved and honour'd by my hus- 
band, Nelson, and myself; knew me in all my former 
splendours; you I look on as a dear, dear friend and 
relation. You are going amongst friends who love 
1 Morrison MS. 1042, January 3, 1813. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 459 

you; but rest assured none reveres you nor loves more 
than your ever, etc. PS. — Poor Horatia was so 
broken-hearted at not seeing you. Tell dear Mr. 
Tegart to call on me, for I do indeed feil truly for- 
lorn and friendless. God bless you. As glorious 
Nelson said, Amen, Amen, Amen." 

Her stay in these purlieus was not long. Perry, 
and probably the Mertonite Alderman Smith, must 
have bailed her out. But during these few weeks of 
restricted liberty she slaved at new petitions, was vis- 
ited by friends, and continued her correspondence with 
the Boltons and the Matchams, who begged hard for 
Horatia, whom they would meet at Reigate if Emma 
" could not manage to come " with her. They for- 
warded her presents of potatoes and turkeys from the 
country, and their letters evidently treat her just as if 
she were at large. 

All her energies were bent on the two final memorials 
so often referred to in these pages — that to the Prince 
Regent, and that to the King. Rose now at last 
espoused her cause with real warmth, and Canning 
favoured her, despite his pique at her exaggerated ac- 
count of what Nelson understood from their last in- 
terview. All, however, ended in smoke. Perceval, 
whom she had persuaded into benefiting one of Nel- 
son's nephews, had been shot in the previous year, 
and Lord Liverpool trod in the footsteps of Lord 
Grenville. 

Whither she repaired on liberation is unknown, 
though by the summer of the year she managed to 
reinstate herself in Bond Street. 1 There is no head- 
ing to the strange remonstrance which the distressed 

*No. 150. This is manifest from the inventory and sale cata- 
logue of the following July sold at Sotheby's on July 8, 1905. It 
is dated " Thursday, July 8, 1813." Her last refuge was at Ful- 
ham with Mrs. Billington. 



4 6o EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

mother penned, in one of her fitful moods, to Horatia 
on " Easter Sunday " ' of this year : — 

" Listen to a kind, good mother, who has ever been 
to you affectionate, truly kind, and who has neither 
spared pains nor expense to make you the most 
amiable and accomplished of your sex. Ah! Horatia, 
if you had grown up as I wished you, what a joy, what 
a comfort might you have been to me! For I have 
been constant to you, and willingly pleas'd for every 
manifestation you shew'd to learn and profitt of my 
lessons. . . . Look into yourself well, correct your- 
self of your errors, your caprices, your nonsensical 
follies. ... I have weathered many a storm for your 
sake, but these frequent blows have kill'd me. Listen 
then from a mother, who speaks from the dead. Re- 
form your conduct, or you will be detested by all the 
world, and when you shall no longer have my foster- 
ing arm to sheild you, woe betide you, you will sink 
to nothing. Be good, be honourable, tell not false- 
hoods, be not capricious." She threatened to put her 
to school — a threat never executed. " I grieve and 
lament to see the increasing strength of your turbulent 
passions ; I weep, and pray you may not be totally lost ; 
my fervent prayers are offered up to God for you. I 
hope you may become yet sensible of your eternal wel- 
fare. I shall go join your father and my blessed 
mother, and may you on your deathbed have as little 
to reproach yourself as your once affectionate mother 
has, for I can glorify, and say I was a good child. 
Can Horatia Nelson say so? I am unhappy to say 
you cannot. No answer to this! I shall to-morrow 
look out for a school for your sake to save you, that 
you may bless the memory of an injured mother. 
PS. — Look on me as gone from this world." 

Six months later she again blamed her for her 
1 April 18, 1813. Cf. Morrison MS. 1047. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 461' 

" cruel treatment." It may well be that the poor 
young girl, bandied about with Emma's fortunes, and 
with her driven from pillar to post, complained of hard 
treatment. "If my poor mother," once more ex- 
claimed Emma, who had, at any rate, been a most duti- 
ful daughter, " If my poor mother was living to take 
my part, broken as I am with greif and ill-health, I 
should be happy to breathe my last in her arms. I 
thank you for what you have done to-day. You have 
helped me nearer to God and may God forgive you." 
In two days " all will be arranged for her future estab- 
lishment." She will summon Colonel and Mrs. Clive, 
Colonel and Mrs. Smith, Mr. and Mrs. Denis, Dr. 
Norton, Nanny the old servant, Mr. Slop, Mr. Sice, 
Annie Deane, all the gossips from Richmond, to " tell 
the truth " if she " has used her ill." " Every servant 
shall be on oath." " The all-seeing eye of God " knows 
" her innocence." 

Of these two ebullitions, it is impossible not to 
discern in the first a fear lest her own errors should be 
repeated in her daughter. And it should not be for- 
gotten that, through the connivance of Haslewood, 
Nelson's solicitor, Horatia to the last refused to believe 
that Lady Hamilton, whom she tenderly nursed and 
comforted at the close, was her real mother. Some 
such denials of Emma's motherhood may have caused 
these outbursts, proportioned in their violence to the 
intense and unceasing love that Emma fostered for 
Nelson's child, on her real relationship to whom she 
here — and here only within four walls — laid such ve- 
hement stress. 

She had been compelled to part with Horatia's 
christening-cup, Nelson's own gift, to a Bond Street 
silversmith. Sir Harris Nicolas declared that he had 
seen a statement in her handwriting to the effect that 
" Horatia's mother " was " too great a lady to be men- 



462 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

tioned." It has been assumed that his ambiguous 
phrase pointed to the Queen of Naples, who so late as 
1808 was in friendly correspondence with Emma. 
This, however, remains uncertain. Nelson's own ac- 
tion had constrained her to envelop their joint offspring 
in mystery, for Horatia's benefit as well as their own. 
It is just as probable that the words " too great a 
lady " were used of herself, for the same words are 
used of her by Mrs. Bolton in 1809. 

Things went rapidly from bad to worse. The 
smaller fry of her creditors were emboldened by the 
complete neglect of her last " memorials " into re- 
newed action. At the instance of an exorbitant coach- 
builder, with a long bill in his hands, she was re- 
arrested, and in Horatia's company she found herself, 
towards the end of July, 1813, for the second time in 
the bare lodgings at Temple Place. All her remaining 
effects in Bond Street were sold. The articles offered 
were by no means luxurious, and included the rem- 
nants of Hamilton's library; many of them were 
bought by the silversmith, whom she still owed, and 
by Alderman Smith, her most generous benefactor. 
The city remained her champion. 

She could still see her friends, Coxe and George 
Matcham among them, and she was permitted, such 
was her miserable health, to drive out on occasion. 
But the game, spiritedly contested to the last, was now 
up. Mrs. Bolton's death in the preceding July added 
one more to the many fatalities that thronged around 
her. The Matchams, themselves poor, were unweary- 
ing in their solicitude, and three years earlier a small 
windfall had enabled them to contribute £100 to her 
dire necessities. Alderman Smith came for the sec- 
ond time to the rescue, and once more stood her bail. 

But before even this alleviation was vouchsafed, and 
while she had been for three months confined to her 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 463 

bed, a crowning trouble beset her. Through the per- 
fidy of some dependant * Nelson's most private letters 
to her had been abstracted some years before, and were 
now published to the world. This is the invaluable 
correspondence, on which these pages have so fre- 
quently drawn. It was not their revelation of the 
"Thomson" letters that prejudiced her: her enemies 
were always willing to insinuate even that she had 
foisted Horatia on Nelson. It was the revelation of 
the Prince of Wales episode of 1801, that scandalised 
the big world, and destroyed the last shred of hope 
for any future " memorials." It was insinuated that 
she herself had published the volume. " Weather 
this person," she told Mr. Perry, " has made use of 
any of these papers, or weather they are the invention 
of a vile mercenary wretch, I know not, but you will 
oblige me much by contradicting these falsehoods." 
" I have taken an oath and confirmed it at the altar," 
the much-harried Emma was to write to the press in 
the next September, after she had crossed the Chan- 
nel, " that I know nothing of these infamous publica- 
tions that are imputed to me. My letters were stolen 
from me by that scoundrel whose family I had in 
charity so long supported. I never once saw or knew 
of them. That base man is capable of forging any 
handwriting, and I am told that he has obtained money 
from the [Prince of Wales] by his impositions. Sir 
William Hamilton, Lord N., and myself were too much 
attached to his [Royal Highness] ever to speak ill or 
think ill of him. If I had the means I would prosecute 
the wretches who have thus traduced me." In still 
another of her last letters she is even more specific on 
this sore subject. " I again before God declare," she 
avers, " I know nothing of the publication of these 
stolen letters." 

1 Harrison ; cf. Horatia's letter. Cornhill, June, 1906. 



464 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

These statements point to Emma's truthfulness. 
All that she asserts is her ignorance of the contents 
of the volume* and how they came to be published. 
The Prince of Wales letters in this collection are un- 
doubtedly genuine* corroborated, as they are, by many 
of their companions in the Morrison Manuscripts. 
The letters had been purloined by a rascal, and their 
publication blasted her last chances with the Prince 
whom in her will she had begged to protect Horatia 
after she was gone, while it also disclosed for the first 
time her dishonour of her husband. 

Her sin had found her out; but her sin had been 
born of real devotion, and surely it should not harden 
us against her lovableness, or alienate us from charity 
towards the weight of temptation, and from pity for 
the tragedy of her lot. 

She had abstained from reading the book. If she 
meant to deny the authenticity of these letters, then 
indisputably she must be taken to have lied. But even 
so, she was driven to bay and at the end of her tether. 
The perjury would have been exceptional. It would 
not have been Plato's " lie in the soul " : it would 
have been a lie in defence of the dead and the living. 

"The lips have sworn: unsworn remains the soul." 



CHAPTER XV 

FROM DEBT TO DEATH 

July, 1814 — January, 18 15 

SHORT and evil were the few days remaining. 
" What shall I do ; God, what shall I do ! " had 
been her exclamation thirty-two years ago to 
Greville. As she began, so she closed. 

Mrs. Bolton's death in the late summer of 18 13 
left her more desolate than ever at Temple Place. The 
Matchams resumed their warm invitations; alas! she 
could not leave; she was still an undischarged bank- 
rupt. The Matchams themselves were breaking up 
the last of their many establishments. They all wished 
to join Emma and Horatia, when possible, in some 
" city, town, or village abroad." This proposal prob- 
ably suggested the idea of retiring to Calais when her 
present ordeal in the stale air of stuffy Alsatia should 
come to an end. 

But even in tribulation she had celebrated, as best 
she could, the "glorious 1st of August." I have seen 
a letter inviting a few even then — not " pinchbeck," 
she calls them, " but true gold " — round that little table 
in Temple Place, to drink for the last time to the 
hero's memory. 

The few surviving records unite in proving her 
genuine anxiety that through her no creditor should 
suffer. Though imprudence, as she confessed, had not 
a little contributed, her main disasters were due to a 
crowd of worthless onhangers whom she had reck- 

465 



466 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

lessly maintained. She herself had gone bail " for 
a person " whom she thought " honourable." This 
" person " was probably one Jewett, a young friend 
of the Russells, in whom she had taken a warm inter- 
est. " I should be better," she had written to her 
" kind, good, benevolent Mr. and Mrs. Russell," " if 
I could know that this unfortunate and, I think, not 
guilty young man was saved. He has been a dupe in 
the hands of villains. ... I have never seen him, for 
I could not have borne to have seen him and his 
amiable wife and children suffer as they must." She 
employs the same phrase — " dupe of villains " — about 
herself in a long epistle of this very date to Rose. 

All her property was surrendered; with the ex- 
ception of a few sacred relics, everything unseized had 
been sold, even Nelson's sword of honour. Her just 
creditors lost not a penny. The sole extortioners she 
would not benefit were those annuitant Shylocks who 
had preyed upon her utmost need, and who had well 
secured themselves by insuring her life in the Pelican 
Insurance Company. 

James Perry and Alderman Smith exerted them- 
selves to the utmost on her behalf. A small further 
sum was collected for her in the city, and by the last 
week of June, 1814, her full discharge was obtained 
from Lord Ellenborough. She was now free — with 
less than fifty pounds in her pocket. 

But she soon gleaned the fact that these merciless 
" annuitants " purposed her re-arrest. Without dis- 
honour, she prepared for exodus to France. 

It was a flight requiring management and secrecy to 
elude the new writs about to be issued : it was her last 
thrill. How different from that memorable flight to 
Palermo sixteen years earlier, which had earned the 
admiration of Nelson, the gratitude of a court, and the 
praise of Britain! 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 467 

About the last day of June she and Horatia, unat- 
tended, embarked at the Tower. The stormy passage 
thence to Calais took three days. Her single thought 
was for Horatia's future, but she still buoyed herself 
up by believing that an ungrateful ministry would at 
length provide for her daughter. Sir William Scott, 
she wrote, assured her that there were " some hopes " 
for her " irresistible claims." She fancied, more- 
over, that she had some disposing power over the ac- 
cumulations of arrears on her income under her hus- 
band's will, so long withheld and intercepted by greedy 
annuitants. " If I was to die/' she told Greville's 
brother and executor, imploring him at the same time 
for £100 on account, " I should have left that money 
away, for the annuitants have no right to have it, 
nor can they claim it, for I was most dreadfully im- 
posed upon by my good nature. . . . When I came 
away, I came with honour, as Mr. Alderman Smith 
can inform you, but mine own innocence keeps me up, 
and I despise all false accusations and aspersions. I 
have given up everything to pay just debts, but [for] 
annuitants, never will." 

She at first lodged at Dessein's famous hotel — the 
inn where Sterne (of whom Romney, his first por- 
trayer's pupil, must have often told her) started on his 
Sentimental Journey, by the confession over a bottle 
of Burgundy that there was " mildness in the Bour- 
bon blood "; and where the " Englishman who did not 
travel to see Englishmen " first inspected, in his host's 
company, the ramshackle desobligeante which was to 
be the vehicle of his whimsies. 

Dessein's, however, was expensive as well as senti- 
mental. It was not long before she inhabited the 
smaller " Quillac's " and looked out for a still humbler 
abode. Her " Old Dame Francis " was soon to join 
her as housekeeper. 



468 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

She thus describes their manner of life to George 
Rose : — 

". . . Near me is an English lady, who has resided 
here for twenty-five years, who has a day-school, but 
not for eating or sleeping. At eight in the morning I 
take Horatia, fetch her at one; at three we dine; she 
goes out till five, and then in the evening we walk. 
She learns everything — piano, harp, languages gram- 
matically. She knows French and Italian well, but 
she will still improve. Not any girls, but those of 
the best families go there. Last evening we walked 
two miles to a fete champetre pour les bourgeois. 
Everybody is pleased with Horatia. The General and 
his good old wife are very good to us; but our little 
world of happiness is ourselves. If, my dear Sir, 
Lord Sidmouth would do something for dear Horatia, 
so that I can be enabled to give her an education, and 
also for her dress, it would ease me, and make me 
very happy. Surely he owes this to Nelson. For 
God's sake, do try for me, for you do not know how 
limited I am. ... I have been the victim of artful, 
mercenary wretches." x 

Dis aliter visum; it was not to be. Nothing but the 
pittance of Horatia's settlement remained. Rose be- 
stirred himself, but Lord Sidmouth continued imper- 
vious to the importunate widow, herself slowly re- 
covering from the jaundice. 

When "Dame Francis" arrived, they tenanted a 
farmhouse two miles distant in the Commune of St. 
Pierre — " Common of St. Peter's," as Lady Hamilton 
writes it — and from this farmhouse, not long after- 
wards, they again removed to a neighbouring one. It 

1 Cf. Rose's Diaries, vol. i. p. 272 ; and cf . Morrison MS. 1055. 
" Horatia is improving in person and education every day. She 
speaks French like a French girl, Italian, German, English," etc. 
— September 21. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 469 

belonged to two ladies who had lost a large sum by 
the refusal of their sons to join Napoleon's invading 
army. Its rooms were large, its garden extensive. 
She could at length take exercise in a pony-cart. She 
and Horatia were regular in church attendance : the 
French prayers were like their own. Provisions were 
cheap: turkeys two shillings, partridges fivepence the 
brace ; Bordeaux wine from five to fifteen pence. Oc- 
casionally a stray visitor passed their way. Lord Cath- 
cart, Sir William's old friend and relative, had visited 
them, and spied out the nakedness of the land. It was 
well known at Calais that the celebrated Lady Hamil- 
ton was in retreat : a real live " milord " must have flut- 
tered the farmhouse dovecote. For a time there was 
a brief spell of cheerful tranquillity, but the gleam 
was transient. It was only a reprieve before the final 
summons. " If my dear Horatia Were provided for," 
she wrote to Sir William Scott, " I should dye happy, 
and if I could only now be enabled to make her more 
comfortable, and finish her education, ah God, how I 
would bless them that enabled me to do it ! ' She was 
teaching her German and Spanish; music, French, 
Italian, and English she " already knew." Emma 
" had seen enough of grandeur not to regret it " ; 
" comfort, and what would make Horatia and myself 
live like gentlewomen, would be all I wish, and to live 
to see her well settled in the world." It was of no 
avail that her illness was leaving her. " My Broken 
Heart does not leave me." " Without a pound in " 
her "pocket," what could she do? — "On the 21st of 
October, fatal day, I shall have some. I wrote to 
Davison to ask the Earl to let me have my Bronte 
pension quarterly instead of half-yearly, and the Earl 
refused, saying that he was too poor. . . . Think, 
then, of the situation of Nelson's child, and Lady Ham- 
ilton, who so much contributed to the Battle of the 



47o EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

Nile, paid often and often out of my own pocket at 
Naples . . . and also at Palermo for corn to save 
Malta. Indeed, I have been ill used. Lord Sidmouth 
is a good man, and Lord Liverpool is also an upright 
Minister. Pray, and if ever Sir William Hamilton's 
and Lord Nelson's services were deserving, ask them 
to aid me. Think what I must feel who was used to 
give God only knows [how much], and now to ask! " 1 
Such was the plight of one who had gladly lavished 
care and money on the son and daughter of Earl Nel- 
son. That new-made Earl, who had canvassed her 
favour, and called her his " best friend," was now 
calmly leaving her to perish, and his great brother's 
daughter to share her carking penury and privation. 

Lawyers' letters molested even the seclusion of St. 
Pierre. The English papers published calumnies 
which she was forced to contradict. Their little fund 
was fast dwindling, and as late autumn set in they were 
forced to transfer their scanty effects to a meagre 
lodging in the town itself. 

In the Rue Franqaise — No. in — and even there in 
its worst apartments, looking due north, the distressed 
fugitives found themselves in the depth of a hard 
winter. 

They were not in absolute want, but, had their sus- 
pense been protracted, they must ere long have been so. 
At the beginning of December the " annuitants' " at- 
torneys were in close correspondence with the Honour- 
able Colonel Sir R. Fulke Greville. Proceedings, in- 
deed, were being instigated in Chancery, which were 
only stopped by Lady Hamilton's unexpected demise. 
An embargo was laid on every penny of Emma's in- 
come. Even Horatia's pittance was not paid in ad- 
vance, till she herself begged for a trifle on account 
from her uncle, Earl Nelson. 

1 Lady Hamilton to Sir William Scott— September 12, 1814. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 471 

Under the strain of uncertainty, Emma, worried 
out of her wits, and drawn more closely than ever to 
the daughter who absorbed her fears, her sorrow, and 
her affection, at length collapsed. The strong and 
buoyant spirits, which had brought her through so 
many crises, including Horatia's own birth, and the 
coil of its consequences, failed any longer to support 
her. A dropsical complaint, complicated by a chill, 
fastened upon her chest. By New Year's Day, 1815, 
her state of pocket, as well as of health, had become 
critical. Some ten pounds, in English money, her 
wearing apparel, and a few pawn tickets for pledged 
pieces of plate, were the sole means of subsistence un- 
til Horatia's next quarter's allowance should fall due. 
In 181 1 the Matchams had sent all they could spare; 
they may have done so again. If the mother, denuded 
of all, asked for anything, it was for Horatia that she 
pleaded. At her debut, Greville had noticed that she 
would starve rather than beg : it proved so now. Only 
seven years ago she had implored the Duke not to 
let their " enemies trample upon them." Those ene- 
mies had trampled on them indeed. A new creditor 
was knocking at her door, the last creditor — Death. 

One can picture that deserted death-scene in the 
Calais garret, where the wan woman, round whom so 
much brilliance had hovered, lay poverty-stricken and 
alone. Where now were the tribes of flatterers, of 
importuners for promotion, or even the crowd of true 
and genial hearts? Her still lingering beauty had 
formed an element of her age, but now only the prim- 
itive elements of ebbing life remained intact — the 
mother and her child. By her bedside stood a crucifix 
— for she had openly professed her faith. Over her 
bed hung, doubtless, the small portraits of Nelson 
and of her mother — remnants from the wreck. Nel- 
son was no longer loathed at Calais ; a Bourbon sat on 



472 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

the throne, and not even wounded pride angered the 
French against the man who had delivered the sister — > 
now dead herself — of Marie Antoinette. Perhaps 
Emma is trying to dictate a last piteous entreaty to the 
hard-hearted Earl, and sad Horatia writing it at the 
bare table by the attic casement. Perhaps, while she 
gasps for breath, and calls to mind the child within 
her arms, she strives but fails to utter all the weight 
upon her heart. Horatia sobs, and kisses again, may 
be, and again that " guardian " whom now she loves 
and trusts with a daughter's heart. Sorrow unites 
them closely; here "they and sorrow sit." 

Of her many tragic " Attitudes " (had Constance 
ever been one?) the tragedy of this last eclipses all. 
She, whose loveliness had dazzled Europe, whose 
voice and gestures had charmed all Italy, and had spell- 
bound princes alike and peasants; whose fame, what- 
ever might be muttered, was destined to re-echo long 
after life's broken cadence had died upon the air; she 
whose lightest word had been cherished — she now lay 
dying here. Nelson, her mother, her child, these are 
still her company and comfort, as memories float be- 
fore her fading eyes. Ah ! will she find the first again, 
and must she lose the last? 

A pang, a spasm, a cry. The priest is fetched in 
haste. She still has strength to be absolved, to re- 
ceive extreme unction from a stranger's hands. Weep- 
ing Horatia and old " Dame Francis " re-enter as, in 
that awful moment, shrived, let us hope, and recon- 
ciled, she clings, and rests in their embrace. 

It had been her wish to lie beside her mother in the 
Paddington church. This, too, was thwarted. On the 
next Friday she was buried. The hearse was fol- 
lowed by the many naval officers then at Calais to the 
cheerless cemetery, before many years converted into 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 473, 

a timber-yard. Had she died a Protestant — such was 
the revival of Catholicism with monarchy in France — ■ 
intolerance would have refused a service: only a few 
months earlier, a blameless and charming actress had 
been pitched at Paris into an unconsecrated grave. 
It was these circumstances that engendered the fables, 
soon circulated in England, of Emma's burial in a 
deal box covered by a tattered petticoat. 

Earl Nelson and the Mr. Henry Cadogan, who has 
been mentioned earlier, came over before the begin- 
ning of February — the former to bring Horatia back, 
the latter to pay, through Alderman Smith's large- 
heartedness, the last of the many debts owing on the 
score of Lady Hamilton. None of them were de- 
frayed by the Earl, who had never given his niece so 
much as " a frock or a sixpence." It was soon known 
that the " celebrated Emma " had passed away. Polite 
letters were exchanged between Colonel Greville and 
the " Prefect of the Department of Calais " as to the 
actual facts, and Greville's executor was much relieved 
to feel that Emma's departure had spared him the 
bother of a long lawsuit. 

Horatia owed nothing to her uncle Nelson's care: 
she stayed with the Matchams until her marriage, in 
1822, to the Reverend Philip Ward of Tenterden. She 
became the mother of many children, and died, an 
octogenarian, in 1881. 

The research of these pages has tried to illumine 
Lady Hamilton's misdeeds as well as her good qualities, 
to interpret the problems and contrasts of a mixed 
character and a mixed career. It has tracked the many 
phases and vicissitudes both of circumstance and calibre 
that she underwent. We have seen her as a girl, 
friendless and forsaken, only to be rescued and trained 
by a selfish pedant, who collected her as he collected 



474 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

his indifferent pictures and metallic minerals. We 
have seen her handed on to the amiable voluptuary 
whose torpor she bestirred, and for whose classical 
taste she embodied the beautiful ideal. We have seen 
her swaying a Queen, influencing statesmen and even 
a dynasty, exalted by marriage to a platform which 
enabled her to save, more than once, a situation critical 
alike for her country, for Naples, and for Europe. 
We have seen her rising not only to, but above, the 
occasions which her highest fortunes enabled. We 
have followed her conspicuous courage, from its germs 
in battling with mean disaster, to a development which 
attracted and enthralled the most valiant captain of 
his age. We have marked how her resource also en- 
hanced even his resourcefulness. We have watched 
her swept into a vortex of passionate love for the hero 
who transcended her dramatic dreams, and sacrificing 
all, even her native truthfulness, for the real and un- 
shaken love of their lives. We have shown that she 
cannot be held to have detained him from his public 
duty so long as history is unable to point to a single 
exploit unachieved. And eventually, we have found 
that the infinite expressiveness Which throughout ren- 
dered her a muse both to men of reverie and of action, 
rendered herself a blank, when the personalities she 
prompted were withdrawn and could no more inspire 
her as she had inspired them. We have viewed her 
marvellous rise, and we have traced her melancholy 
decline, from the moment of the prelude to Horatia's 
birth to the years which involved its far-reaching and 
inevitable sequels. We have found, despite all the re- 
sulting stains which soiled a frank and fervid but un- 
schooled and unbridled nature, that she never lost a 
capacity for devotion, and even self-abandonment; 
while her kindness and bounty remained as reckless 
and extravagant as the wilfulness of her moods and 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 475 

the exuberance of her enthusiasm. We have found 
her headstrong successively, and resolute, bold and 
brazen, capricious and loyal, vain-glorious, but vainer 
for the glory of those she loved; strenuous yet inert, 
eminently domestic yet waywardly pleasure-loving; 
serviceable yet alluring, at once Vesta and Hebe. We 
have tracked her, as catastrophe lowered, tenaciously 
beating the air, and ever sanguine that she could turn 
stones — even the stones flung at her — to gold. We 
have tracked also the cruelty and shabbiness of those 
that were first and foremost in throwing those stones, 
whose propriety was prudence, and whose virtue was 
self-interest. We have marked how long this woman 
of Samaria's wayfare was beset by bad Samaritans. 
We have felt the falsities to which they bowed as 
falser than the genuine idolatry which held her from a 
nobler worship, and from an air purer than most of 
her surrounders ever breathed. It was in Nelson's 
erring unselfishness that her salvation and her damna- 
tion met. And in her semi-consecration of true 
motherhood, springing at first from wild-animal de- 
votion to her first child, we can discern the refine- 
ment of instinct which at length led the born pagan 
within the pale of reverence. Astray as a girl, she 
had found refuge in her own devotion, with which she 
invested Greville's patronage. An outcast at the close, 
she turned for shelter to a worthier home. And 
above all, implanted in her from the first, and in- 
eradicable, her unwavering fondness for her mother 
has half-erased her darkest blot, and made her more 
beautiful than her beauty. May we not say, at the 
last, that because she loved much, much shall be for- 
given her : quia midtiim amavit. 

The site of her grave has vanished, and with it the 
two poor monuments rumoured to have marked the 
spot; the first (if Mrs. Hunter be here believed) of 



476 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 

wood, " like a battledore, handle downwards " ; the 
second, a headstone, which a Guide to Calais mentions 
in 1833. 1 Its Latin inscription was then partially de- 
cipherable : — 

"... Quae 
. . . Calesiae 
Via in Gallica vocata. 
Et in dotno c.vi. obiit 
Die xv. Mensis Januarii. a,d. mdcccxv. 
^Etatis suae lj." 2 

It was perhaps erected by some officer of that navy 
which, long after she had gone, always remembered 
her unflagging zeal and kindness with gratitude. 

Her best epitaph may be found in the touching lines 
indited by the literary doctor Beattie (not Nelson's Sir 
William Beatty), after visiting her grave on his re- 
turn from attending William IV. and his wife in Ger- 
many. They were published in 1831, and have been 
quoted by Pettigrew. 

" And here is one — a nameless grave — the grass 
Waves dank and dismal o'er its crumbling mass 
Of mortal elements — the wintry sedge 
Weeps drooping o'er the rampart's watery edge; 
The rustling reed — the darkly rippling wave — 
Announce the tf aant of that lowly grave. 

. . . Levelled with the soil, 
The wasting worm hath revelled in its spoil — 
The spoil of beauty 1 This, the poor remains^ 
Of one who, living, could command the strains 
Of flattery's harp and pen. Whose incense, flung 
From venal breath upon her altar, hung, 
A halo; while in loveliness supreme 
She moved in brightness, like th' embodied dream 

1 Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 636. The " battledore " bore the in* 
scription, "Emma Hamilton, England's friend." 

2 i. e. In the fifty-first year of her age. 



EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 477 

Of some rapt minstrel's warm imaginings, 
The more than form and face of earthly things. 

Few bend them at thy bier, unhappy one! 
All know thy shame, thy mental sufferings, none. 
All know thy frailties — all thou wast and art ! 
But thine were faults of circumstance, not heart. 
Thy soul was formed to bless and to be bless'd 
With that immortal boon — a guiltless breast, 
And be what others seem — had bounteous Heaven 
Less beauty lent, or stronger virtue given ! 
The frugal matron of some lowlier hearth, 
Thou hadst not known the splendid woes of earth: 
Dispensing happiness, and happy — there 
Thou hadst not known the curse of being fair! 
But like yon lonely vesper star, thy light — 
Thy love — had been as pure as it was bright. 
I've met thy pictured bust in many lands, 
I've seen the stranger pause with lifted hands 
In deep, mute admiration, while his eye 
Dwelt sparkling on thy peerless symmetry. 
I've seen the poet's — painter's — sculptor's gaze 
Speak, with rapt glance, their eloquence of praise. 
I've seen thee as a gem in royal halls 
Stoop, like presiding angel from the walls, 
And only less than worshipp'd ! Yet 'tis come 
To this ! When all but slander's voice is dumb, 
And they who gazed upon thy living face, 
Can hardly find thy mortal resting-place." 



THE END 



NOV 2 * 8U 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



